Lady Luck
by Amarin Rose
Summary: Pairing: Devlin-Taylor, Implied Yami-Yugi, Ryou-Bakura Summary: Tristan runs into our favorite dice duelist at a bar...and gets the surprise of a lifetime. Seems 'Duke' has been hiding a secret...a really big one. COMPLETE
1. Duke Looks Like A Lady

**Duke Looks Like A Lady**

* * *

**Japanese**

* * *

Ano – Um…  
100 Yen is roughly equal toone American dollar. 300 Yen is about three dollars.

* * *

_Cruised into a bar on the shore.  
__Her beauty graced the grime on the door.  
__She's a long lost love at first bite.  
__Baby, maybe you're wrong, but you know it's all right.  
__That's right._

_So never judge a book by its cover;  
or who you're going to love by your lover.  
__Love put me wise to her disguise.  
__She had the body of Venus;  
__Lord, imagine my surprise…_

* * *

**Aerosmith – Dude Looks Like A Lady**

* * *

"Hey, babe, come here often?"

The club was warm, hazy from the house special the 'Flaming Phoenix,' which you could get served plain or flambéed, and the techno music was blaring loud enough to make conversation slightly difficult. But that didn't keep her from hearing the words of the idiot with the twenty-years-lame pick-up lines. She looked the guy up and down, and finding him **extremely** lacking in both the looks and manners department, said in a bored tone, "Get lost."

"Aw, now that's not very nice," he said, placing an overly friendly arm around her shoulder.

"Did I mention the knee in the groin you'll be receiving if you touch me?" she said icily, shrugging his arm off.

"Ah, c'mon, babe, just let me buy ya a drink," the biker slurred, replacing his arm.

"Sorry, but I don't date outside my species," she hissed, elbowing him in the gut to make him remove his arm, before turning on her heel and stalking down to the end of the bar. The only free seat was next to a brunet who seemed to be rather involved in his drink, so she didn't think he'd bother her.

Turning to the bartender, she asked tiredly, "Could I get an iced tea, please?" When he handed her a frosty glass, she nodded her thanks and handed him three hundred yen for the drink, telling him to keep the change.

Meanwhile, the brunet had turned to study the woman beside him. Her voice had sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it, and since her back was turned to him, he was having a hard time recognizing her. Starting his perusal at her feet, which were dangling about a foot off the floor, he saw they were encased in black combat boots. Sheer stockings hugged her legs, held up by black garters, which peeked out from underneath her modestly not-quite knee-length red dress. The skirt was hitched up around her hips and swirled about the stool she was sitting on in a drift of red silk, clinging to her thin waist and softly curved chest. Long arms were a softly tanned expanse broke only by the golden bangles at her wrists and upper arms. Her hair was a riot of black curls held back by a red ribbon, and when she turned his way he saw she had startlingly green eyes.

**Familiar** startlingly green eyes.

"Devlin?" Tristan said in a hushed voice, shocked.

"Oh, shit!" Duke hissed. His eyes darted back and forth from Tristan to the door – which was inconveniently blocked by the dozens of people on the dance floor – before he slumped back into his chair with a sigh. "Hey, Tristan," he said gloomily.

"It **is** you," Tristan hissed. "Duke, why are you dressed like…that?" He waved helplessly at the clearly feminine clothing.

"'Cause I felt like it," Duke said tersely, although Tristan noticed there was a still a sheen of panic in those jade-green orbs.

"Oookay," Tristan said, giving him a look. "Why did you feel like it?"

Duke shrugged, and turned slightly away from the brunet. "I just…do, sometimes," he returned, insisting on being vague. He fiddled with the lemon wedge on his drink, pursing painted red lips in a grimace.

"You look…good," Tristan offered, floundering for something to say. At the flash of terror masked by irritation he got in response, he decided that maybe that was the wrong tack to take. "I…"

"What are you doing here, Tristan?" Duke interrupted. "I didn't really think this was your kind of place."

Now it was Tristan's turn to look slightly panicked. "My kind of place?" he repeated, voice slightly squeaky. "Ano…what do you mean by that?" He was trying, unsuccessfully, to keep his eye off Duke's clothes, obviously wondering if the dice duelist wasn't the only club-goer in drag.

In spite of himself, Duke laughed. He seemed to have calmed down quite a bit once he saw that Tristan wasn't going to freak out on him. "This is basically an 'all ages, anything goes' club. Gay, straight, bi, dom, sub, swingers…whatever. It's not really a…vanilla kind of place," he finished tactfully.

Tristan allowed himself a moment to grin in relief before answering. "I wanted to get out of Domino for a while. I, uh, have a fake ID," he whispered, after checking to make sure no one could overhear them, "and I didn't want anyone back home to catch me using it."

One raven eyebrow rose. "You came all the way to Tokyo so you could get drunk? What could be so bad you'd need to do that?"

The stunned, panicked look returned; it seemed to have completely vacated Duke's countenance only to take up residence on Tristan's. "Ano…I just…sort of needed to drown my sorrows, and I didn't want to have to explain myself to anyone I know," he said vaguely. "What about you?"

Shrugging uncomfortably, Duke gestured around the room. "Like I said, this is an anything goes club. Cross-dressers and transvestites welcome, ya know?" he said, smirking slightly. "I figured even if they did realize there was something…off…about me, no one would care. And since this place is almost forty miles from Domino, I didn't think I'd run into anyone I know here. I haven't before…" He trailed off, words halting as he realized what he'd revealed.

"You've been here before then, I take it?" Tristan asked, though it was basically a rhetorical question. Combined with Duke's knowledge of the place, the other teen's words only served to cement the validity of his statement.

"Yeah, on average of once or twice a month, if I have time," Duke admitted reluctantly, fingers tensing on his glass.

"I thought as much," Tristan admitted. "That's a very…high quality dress you're wearing, not something you'd just pick up on a whim."

Blushing slightly, Duke still said, "Well, my motto's always been, if you're going to dress up, go all out."

"If you've got it, flaunt it?" Tristan joked, quoting a T-shirt he'd seen the other boy wearing recently.

Duke's lips curved up in a small grin. "Exactly."

They sat there for a few minutes, just sipping their drunks and enjoying each other's company. Duke noticed that Tristan kept glancing his way, and correctly guessed what the brunet's interest was in. "You don't get it, do you?" Duke asked, gesturing at his clothing to make his question more succinct.

"Why someone would want to cross-dress?" Tristan expounded. "No, not really, but whatever floats your boat, ya know?" He shrugged and downed the last of his drink. The alcohol must have gone to his head, for there was no other explanation for his next words. "You do make a very pretty girl, you know."

Duke's face was almost as red as his dress. "I…"

But whatever else he was going to say was interrupted by the return of the drunken biker who'd accosted him earlier in the evening. The guy was now even more drunk, and proportionately more stupid. "Hey, baby, how's a 'bout I buy you zat drink now?" he slurred out, the previously shrugged off arm coming back around Duke's shoulders.

"How about you leave before I remove your reason for having a gender?" Duke snarled, bristling at the cretin's touch.

"Aw, c'mon, I know ya aren't wit' dis joker," the biker said, gesturing with a shaky arm towards Tristan, who was eyeing him with a look of disgusted amusement. "All's I wanna do is buy ya a drink."

"And all I wanted to do was have some fun here tonight, but you're severely impeding that goal," Duke griped, setting down his empty glass and slipping off his stool. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tristan doing the same thing.

"Aw, where ya goin', baby?" the biker continued, following Duke as the raven-haired teen made his way out of the club.

"Away from you," Duke said succinctly. He was rather gratified to note that Tristan was following him; this guy was persistent, and he could use all the help he could get to get rid of him.

"Hey, babe, come back! C'mon, quit playin' hard ta get, sugar," the biker slurred, determinedly tagging along after him and ignoring Tristan.

Breathing a sigh of relief as he exited the crowded club, Duke rounded on his pursuer. "Leave. Me. Alone. Jackass," Duke seethed.

This finally seemed to get through to the persistent pest, but instead of doing as requested, he got mad. "No. I don't wanna. I wants ya ta have a drink wit' me," he stated stubbornly, grabbing for Duke's arm. He missed, but managed to grab Duke's shoulder, which prevented him from moving.

"Let go of me!" Duke yelled, trying to vain to get the creep to let go. He was normally a pretty good fighter, but this guy was over twice his size, and he didn't have any of his dice with him at the moment.

Dresses that tight don't have room for pockets, ne?

"Hey dirtbag!" Tristan snarled, yanking the biker around to face him. "The lady said to let go."

"What, punk? And if I don't, yer gonna make me?" the biker sneered, laughing raucously.

An almost unholy light entering his eyes, Tristan snarled, "Yeah," before landing an uppercut to the guy's jaw, which knocked him flat on his ass. As he fell, the guy's hand, which had remained on Duke's shoulder throughout his and Tristan's 'conversation' relaxed its grip on Duke's shoulder. It did, however, get caught on the sleeve of his dress. It was made of a rather stretchy fabric and didn't rip, but it was pulled down rather low.

All this went unnoticed by Duke, too busy thanking all the deities he could name that Tristan was here to help him. When he finally managed to calm down enough to think straight, he joked, "Idiot. We've got plenty of youth, what we need is a Fountain of Smart." Duke's joke fell slightly flat, seeing as how he was shaking in leftover fear.

Tristan, meanwhile, was left almost speechless. Almost, because he did manage to croak out one word: "Duke?"

"Yeah, Tristan?" Duke asked, noticing the slightly bemused tone to the brunet's voice.

"How good is your disguise?"

"Ano…why do you ask?" Duke asked nervously, turning to look Tristan in the eye.

"Because–" and here Tristan gestured toward the other's chest, "–those look **real**, Duke."

Looking down, Devlin was dismayed to see that her dress had been pulled so far down her arms that it exposed her cleavage – her not very pronounced, but still obviously **feminine** cleavage.

"Oh, shit," she hissed, unconsciously repeating her words from earlier in the evening.


	2. Only Human

**Only Human**

* * *

_See I bleed and I bruise, oh, but what's it to you?  
I'm only human on the inside.  
And if looks could deceive,  
make it hard to believe.  
I'm only human on the inside. _

I crash and I burn, maybe some day you'll learn.  
I'm only human on the inside.  
I stumble and fall, baby, under it all.  
I'm only human on the inside.

There's blood in these veins,  
and I cry when in pain.  
I'm only human on the inside.  
And though looks may deceive,  
make it hard to believe,  
I'm only human on the inside.

_And the damage is done…_

* * *

**The Pretenders – Human**

* * *

Half an hour later, they were seated on the double bed in Devlin's hotel room, exchanging not-so-surreptitious and uncomfortable glances with each other. After Devlin had fixed her dress, she'd dragged Tristan with her eight blocks down the street, and, apparently having already checked in, unlocked the door and shoved him inside. They'd been sitting there in uncomfortable silence ever since.

"So…ah…why do you have a room here?" Tristan asked.

As conversation starters, it was a little weak, but since she really didn't want to get down to what they were actually there to discuss – like, **ever** – Devlin decided to answer.

"I have a business meeting in the morning, in downtown Tokyo," she said. "It's at seven in the morning, and I didn't want to get caught in rush hour traffic, so I just decided to spend the night before here so I wouldn't be late."

"Plus, you could hit the Phoenix," Tristan added.

She nodded, at a loss for anything else to say.

Normally Tristan didn't say something without at least giving it a cursory thinking-through, but this evening's events, combined with the three beers he'd had, made him both short on tact and long on bluntness. "So…are you really a girl, or did you, like, have a sex-change operation?" he burst out, face falling as he realized how indelicate his question had been.

Short and to the point, yes, but still not the most diplomatic of queries.

Devlin snorted. "Yes, Tristan, I am a girl, and no, I haven't had a sex-change operation."

"Are you planning on having one, and that's why you've been dressing as a guy?" Tristan wondered, remembering something about all candidates for such procedures living as the other sex for two years beforehand, or something.

"No, that isn't why I do it," Devlin said, a melancholy expression on her face.

Sensing there was a story there – and one that Devlin obviously needed to tell somebody about – Tristan asked gently, "Then…why?"

Devlin looked at the floor, the bedspread, the walls – anywhere but at the boy sitting across from her in the room's lone chair. "My father…he wanted revenge on Yugi's grandfather, remember?"

Tristan nodded, having gotten the whole story from their shorter friend after the Crown Game Shop had burned down. "Yeah, though I never heard why."

A lopsided smile graced her lips. "He was mad about his face getting burned. He wanted revenge for the disfigurement – he always was exceptionally vain. But he wanted to use me to get his revenge…only he's very old-fashioned, and thought his plan wouldn't work if I were a girl. He'd always wanted a boy, anyway; not me," she finished, sounding less distressed than one would think at the pronouncement.

"So he forced you to dress like a guy?" Tristan clarified. At her nod, he continued softly, "For how long?"

Uncomfortable with all the revelations she was having to make, Devlin twirled a strand of hair around her index finger. "Since my mother died when I was eight. We moved to a different town and he made me dress like a boy, act like a boy…everything. I've spent half my life pretending to be a guy."

They were both quiet for a moment, Devlin reluctant to reveal more than she had to, and Tristan still slightly stunned by all that had happened. Finally, the brunet broke the silence.

"Duke isn't your real name, is it?" Tristan said more than asked. "'Cause if it is, then your parents were even more screwed up than I thought."

She chuckled softly, though there was a slightly bitter edge to it. "No, Duke isn't my real name. When my father started my masquerade as a boy, he said I could pick my own name. I think it was more of an inducement not to fight him than anything else, but I appreciated it nonetheless."

"How'd you come up with 'Duke'?" Tristan asked, forgoing finding out what her real name was for the moment.

Quirking a grin, she said, "Would you believe that my mother loved John Wayne movies, and that's where it came from?"

Tristan snorted. "No."

She looked at him, mock-hurt in her smile. "Oh? Well, how about that there was a John Wayne movie marathon on TV when I was trying to come up with a name?"

Tristan just shook his head, patiently waiting for the actual answer.

Devlin sighed sadly. "Actually, I just wanted something easy to remember; since my real name starts with a D, I figured I should choose a fake one that did. I thought about David, but that sounds funny with my last name; so does Daniel, and I hate the name Dennis. I finally gave up trying to think of something by myself and scrounged up the baby name book my mother had used when they were trying to think up names for me. Apparently, I had a close call with being Angela Devlin." She smirked at the contrasting images that conjured up – her in a pair of white-feathered wings, and instead of her trademark headband, a set of red horns and matching pointy tail – and shook her head before continuing, "Anyway, Duke was the last name on the boys name page, and I thought it sounded okay. Rather macho, which I thought might help cover up the fact that I'm **not**, so…" She trailed off, a pensive expression on her face.

"What is your real name?" Tristan asked softly, guessing that this was at the center of her uneasiness.

She looked at him for a moment, head titled slightly to the side as she examined him. Finally she sighed and said, "Dara Elise Devlin, at your service, Tristan. Pleased to meet you." There was a slightly mocking smile on her face and her tone was almost fragile.

"No one's called you by your real name in a long time, have they?" Tristan realized.

"Once I told my father my choice, he wouldn't call me anything other than Duke," Dara agreed, eyes on the floor. "At first it was hard to get used to telling people that my name was Duke when they asked. I kept thinking, 'No, my name is Dara'…but after a while, I stopped thinking that." Her laugh was brittle, broken. "A psychologist would have a field day with me. Not only did I probably end up with a gender disorder from pretending to be a guy for so long that I now think I'm dressing in drag whenever I wear a dress, but I also have an identity disorder. I'm a wonderful package, aren't I?" she demanded sarcastically, turning tear-filled eyes toward Tristan. One lone tear fell, smearing a painted line of black ink down her cheek.

Unable to sit by and watch her cry – especially since he felt guilty for causing her distress – Tristan came over to sit beside her on the bed, wrapping one arm around her in comfort. Reaching up, he brushed the salty wetness away; a second tear followed from the other eye, and the boy's right hand joined his left. As Dara's tears fell faster, he gave up using his thumbs and started using his lips, kissing the tears away, drinking them down, until finally they stopped falling. Dara's and Tristan's faces were only a breath apart, and she looked into his eyes searchingly.

"Yes, you are," Tristan answered honestly.

Dara let out a shuddering breath, wisps of strawberry-scented air wafting under his nose. Then she smiled a small, bittersweet smile and leaned into his kiss.


	3. I Woke Up In Confusion This Morning

**I Woke Up In Confusion This Morning**

* * *

**Japanese**

* * *

Bishounen – Beautiful Boy. Refers to all those lovely men in Japanese anime/manga who have that effeminate, delicate, scrumptiously sexy look.  
Kuso! – Shit!

* * *

_For the purpose of this story, I'm placing Domino City at about 50/60 miles away from the outskirts of Tokyo. Downtown Tokyo, and the business district I'm placing about another twenty or thirty miles further._

_Also, Duke Devlin's background will follow the manga, instead of the anime._

* * *

_Last night, I turned out the light,  
__lay down and thought about you.  
__I thought about the way that it could be…_

_I woke up in love this mornin',  
__I woke up in love this mornin',  
__went to sleep with you on my mind._

_Do dreams come true, well if they do, I'll have you;  
not just for a night, but for my whole life through._

_I woke up in love this mornin',  
__I woke up in love this mornin',  
__went to sleep with you on my mind._

* * *

**David Cassidy and The Partridge Family – I Woke Up In Love This Morning**

**

* * *

**

Next morning, things weren't as awkward as they could have been – though not by much. They hadn't had sex, so at least there weren't any 'morning after jitters' to contend with. Dara's crying jag had left her spent, and she'd pretty much fallen asleep while they were still kissing; Tristan had noticed her compliance in their activities, and seeing the lines of tiredness on her face, had broken off their kiss soon after they'd started. A few soothing strokes of his hand across her bared back had lulled her into a light doze. A quick swipe with a warm washcloth to rid her of her dried tears and makeup, and he'd bundled her under the covers and soothed her to sleep.

It was only when he was debating whether or not to leave when he realized that those three beers he'd had, combined with that night's surprises, had left him almost as drained as the girl sleeping soundly in the double bed. And while he was a gentleman, he felt, under the circumstances, that Dara wouldn't freak if he took the other half of the bed.

Or at least, not **too** badly.

Though when he'd opened his eyes to find a pair of jade-green orbs staring at him in anxious, frightened surprise, he thought maybe he shouldn't have shoved his worries off so quickly.

Reality check: girl who's been masquerading as guy gets found out by another guy, said guy comforts her when she cries by kissing her, and she falls asleep soon afterward. Girl then wakes up to find herself in bed with aforementioned guy, and, not remembering anything involving their sleeping accommodations, fears the worst.

Not that he thought them having sex would be the worst thing that could have happened, but it certainly wasn't the best, especially considering the situation.

"Hey," he said softly, trying not to spook her. "You sleep okay?"

She blinked rapidly, obviously trying to dispel her fears and said, "Ah…yeah. What, um, when did I…?"

"You kinda conked out when we were kissing," he said, trying to reassure her that nothing untoward had happened. "We were both pretty wiped, and I didn't trust myself to drive, so I just stayed here. I hope you don't mind, but I figured the bed was big enough to share."

She blushed at that, but seemed a lot calmer after his frank explanation. "Ah, no, no, I don't mind. Um…what time is it?"

Craning his neck up to look at the clock behind her, he said, "It's ten after six."

She started and sat straight up, the sheet and light blanket falling down to her waist, exposing her disarrayed clothing. "Kuso! I have that meeting in less than an hour…" She trailed off, looking at him, obviously realizing that they still had things they needed to discuss.

Affecting nonchalance, Tristan shrugged and said, "I don't have any plans for today; if you want, I could just wait here, and when you're done with your meeting we could continue our talk?"

She nodded distractedly, mind focused on other things. "It shouldn't take long, no more than an hour. Checkout's at noon, though, so we'll have to find another place for our talk if we don't want to be interrupted."

Thinking over their options, Tristan realized it would probably be a good idea if they were on more familiar ground. Duke – er, Dara – would most definitely feel better having the rest of this heart-wrenching conversation on her own turf.

"How about this?" he proposed. "You check out and go to your meeting. I go back to the bar and hope my bike's still in the parking lot, and, if it is, I head back to Domino. When your meeting's over, you head back and I'll meet you at your shop at around ten for brunch."

Considering his suggestion, Dara finally said, "Yeah, sounds good. Um…you're not going to…"

"I promise not to tell anyone, Dara," Tristan cut in, using her real name in hopes she'd understand he was serious.

She breathed a soft sigh of relief. "Thanks, Tristan," she said, her words heartfelt.

"No problem."

* * *

Less than half an hour later, he was on his way back to Domino, thoughts whirling faster than his bike was eating up the asphalt.

Duke Devlin, creator of Dungeon Dice Monsters, and one of the most sought-after bishounen in all of Domino High, was a **girl**?

And a **really** sexy girl, at that.

This made his current problem both less and more difficult.

But mostly more.

* * *

He'd purposely taken the long way back to Domino – though considering how bad rush hour traffic had been, he'd almost thought it had been a bad idea. It was past nine-thirty when he finally neared the city; Dara was probably home by then.

And wondering where he was, and if he was having a belated freak-out. Which he was, but probably not for any of the specific reasons she might have thought up.

It just figured that right after he'd come to terms with the fact that he was apparently bisexual…it turned out he was actually still straight.

Still, they were supposed to meet for brunch, and food always seemed to make any difficult situation easier to bear. At least according to Joey.

After a quick stop at a bakery to pick up some pastries, Tristan headed over to the Crown Game Shop. It was ten on the dot when he pulled up at the back entrance, which led not to the shop itself, but to the small apartment overhead where Dara lived.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door and waited.


	4. 32 Flavors And Then Some

**32 Flavors And Then Some**

* * *

_Squint your eyes and look closer;  
I'm not between you and your ambition.  
I am a poster girl with no poster.  
I am thirty-two flavors and then some._

_And I'm beyond your peripheral vision  
so you might want to turn your head.  
'Cause someday you're going to get hungry  
and eat most of the words you just said._

_God help you if you are an ugly girl;  
_'_course, too pretty is also your doom.  
_'_Cause everyone harbors a secret hatred  
__for the prettiest girl in the room._

_And God help you if you are a phoenix  
__and you dare to rise up from the ash.  
__A thousand eyes will smolder with jealousy  
__while you are just flying back._

* * *

**Ani DiFranco – 32 Flavors**

* * *

Dara, for her part, pushed everything involved the past twenty-four hours down into the recesses of her mind, determined to think about it later. Later being after her meeting, though she would've preferred the thirteenth of Never.

The meeting didn't take as long as she thought it would; twenty-eight minutes after she arrived, she was leaving. 7:30 in the morning, and it was less than two hours back to Domino, even with rush hour traffic. She'd have probably an hour to sit and twiddle her thumbs.

Sighing, she went to get her car from the garage she'd parked it in. No use putting off the inevitable.

There'd been an accident halfway back, so she didn't have as much time to brood as she'd thought she would. Still, twenty minutes – or more, if Tristan was late – was enough time to work herself up into a Grade A panic attack.

Questions ran over and over through her mind, bombarding her with worries and uncertainties.

Would Tristan really keep her secret?

Even if he would keep her secret, would they ever be friends again?

Did he think she was a freak or was he just being nice last night?

And, most importantly of all, what the **hell** did that kiss mean?

* * *

A knock at the door startled Dara out of her morass of melancholy gloom, and she sighed. When she reached the entryway, she braced herself before opening the door.

To find Tristan, bearing pastries, on her doorstep. He appeared surprised at her appearance, and she couldn't blame him. She was back in her 'normal' clothes – her normal **guy** clothes, that was.

Hair up in a ponytail and held back by a checked headband, breasts concealed by the drape of a loose black T-shirt and red vest, she looked every inch a guy. A rather feminine guy, but still male.

"Disconcerting seeing me like this again once you've seen me in a dress, huh?" she asked wryly.

Tristan nodded, a smile lurking on his lips. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Come in," Dara invited. When Tristan was inside, she closed the door behind him and turned to face him hesitantly. Sensing something needed to be said to break the ice, Dara said, "I see you brought brunch."

"Ah, yeah," Tristan replied.

"I could make some coffee," Dara offered.

"Sounds good," Tristan agreed. "You wanna eat first, and then talk?"

"Sounds good," she repeated, relieved at the opportunity to delay the inevitable.

* * *

Though they had both dawdled over their meal, it was still only half an hour later when the last crumb of pastry had been eaten and the last drop of coffee had been drunk.

"So…" Tristan started.

"So…" Dara repeated.

They both looked at each other and broke out laughing.

"We're being stupid, aren't we?" Dara asked between giggles.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm just nervous," Tristan defended himself.

"Why are **you** nervous? I'm the one whose deep dark secret has just been blown," Dara demanded, looking somewhere between pissed off and mirthful.

"Yeah, well…" Tristan trailed off, looking sheepish. "Deep dark secret?" he questioned, a smile lurking at the corners of his lips.

Dara shrugged, the pissed off half of the look leaving her face, and the laughing one overtaking it. "What else would you call it?" she joked.

"More Weird Shit Courtesy of Living in Domino City™," Tristan shot back.

Dara just raised one eyebrow.

"Well, think about it," Tristan said, ticking the points off on his fingers. "We've got two ancient Egyptian spirits, and the lighter halves of their souls which were reincarnated into two Japanese teenagers, an ancient Egyptian High Priest who was reincarnated into a computer genius – also a Japanese teenager – his stepbrother who's consciousness was trapped into a computer, a **modern** Egyptian tomb-keeper who went crazy and spawned a darker half that wants to take over the world…"

"Okay, okay," Dara broke in, cutting him off. Laughingly, she said, "I get what you mean. Compared to the rest of the crazy stuff that happens in this town, me being a cross-dresser is pretty tame."

"Well, now, I wouldn't say 'tame'…" Tristan teased, obviously referring to her attire of the previous evening.

Dara tried hard, but she couldn't manage to keep herself from blushing. She coughed. "Ano…so what did you want to know?" she asked, getting back to the reason for his presence.

"Whatever you want to tell me," Tristan replied sincerely.

"I'd prefer to tell you as little as possible," Dara said truthfully. She sighed and slumped back in her chair, fiddling with the handle of her coffee cup. "But I suppose I need to talk about this."

Tristan just gave her an encouraging look, sensing that any words on his part would be out of place.

"I've never talked to anyone about this," she said softly. "Not even my father. Not that I **wanted** to talk to him about my innermost thoughts or anything…" She trailed off, staring moodily into her coffee cup as if the black brew held the secrets of the universe.

Or at least the answers to her current predicament.

Seeing that Dara was apparently having a hard time figuring out where to start, Tristan decided to bring up something that had been bugging him since the morning after he'd found out. "It's amazing to me how I never noticed," the brunet said.

Dara shrugged, finally looking up from her contemplation of her caffeinated beverage. "You weren't looking for it. And admittedly, it wasn't that hard to make myself **not** look like a girl." She frowned slightly. "I suppose I should be upset by that," she added under her breath, but shook it off.

"It wasn't that hard?" Tristan asked, pretending not to hear her almost – but not quite – inaudible mumbles.

She shrugged again. "I have no hips…and well, almost no chest," she said, gesturing at herself. "Once that was out of the way it was only a matter of cultivating 'The Look.'"

"'The Look?'" Tristan asked, trying in vain to keep his eyes off Dara's chest, which, for once when she was dressed as a guy, wasn't bound up.

"'The Look,'" Dara confirmed, smiling inwardly as she noticed where Tristan's eyes were focused. She purposely took a deep breath just to watch his eyes bug out. _He finds me attractive, at least. That's something,_ she thought wryly. "A look which would draw the eye away from anything that might reveal I wasn't really a guy."

Comprehension dawned on Tristan's face. "Thus, the intricate hairstyle and the makeup." He gestured to her headband and earring.

"Exactly."

"But if you've been trying to keep a low profile, why go to that club?" Tristan asked. Though he thought he knew. Even if Dara could never talk to anyone about her secret, at least she could occasionally 'let her hair down' and be herself.

Even if no one knew it was her.

She started vacantly off to the side as she answered. "Sometimes…I start to forget that Duke Devlin is just a role I play," she murmured. "And when the masquerade starts to feel real…I have to remind myself who I really am." She let out a shuddering breath and her eyes lowered back to her coffee cup. "So I get dressed up, and go out to that club, and pretend I'm just like every other girl in that place…and not a complete and utter freak."

Her words had started out soft and sad, but they ended up harsh and almost vibrating with furious intensity.

"You're not a freak, Dara," Tristan said reassuringly one tanned hand coming across the table to rest on top of hers for a fleeting moment. "Or if you are, we **all** are."

She half-grinned at him, squeezing his hands in return before releasing it. "Oh, really? And what about you sets you apart from the mainstream, Taylor, ne?"

"Ano…I was once voted 'Most Likely To Fade Into The Crowd'?" Tristan offered jokingly.

Dara snorted. "You seemed to stand out pretty well in Phoenix last night," she said, thinking, _I definitely couldn't keep my eyes off of you – and not just because you recognized me._

Tristan just shrugged.

Taking a deep breath for courage, Dara brought up the topic she'd been thinking about ever since she woke up that morning. Was it only five hours ago? It seemed longer… "Speaking of last night…" she started, and then trailed off, her nerve failing her at the last crucial moment. Firming her resolve, she went on, "You kissed me, and I'd like to know why."

Tristan had known this was coming; thankfully he'd had a three-hour-long motorcycle ride to help clear his head so he could think. And think he had, for all three hours, about Dara.

"The reason I was in that bar the other night was because I'd just come to a rather…unsettling realization about myself that I needed some time to process," Tristan said, seemingly out of the blue.

Dara glared at him, most likely thinking he'd just done a very obvious change of subject.

"I'd been wrestling over whether or not I was gay," Tristan said frankly, and this caused the glare to melt from her face into something resembling a severely disappointed frown. "I finally came to the conclusion that yes, I was attracted to guys – or at least, one particular guy – so I was bi. And then it turns out that the guy I was attracted to…was really a girl," he finished. He smiled and picked up Dara's limp hand in his own strong one.

Dara looked dumbstruck. _I knew he found me attractive, but…_ "W-what?" she stuttered.

"I've been attracted to you for a while," Tristan said softly. "And at first I had trouble dealing with it, but after a while I was okay with it." He snorted. "And then, just as I'm okay with not being straight, it turns out that the only reason my sexual orientation changed was because of a misunderstanding."

"I, uh…" Dara chuckled. "I don't know what to say." _He changed his sexual orientation because of **me**?_ she thought disbelievingly, a small well of happiness bubbling up inside her heart. "But I thought you said you came to the bar in order to quote-unquote 'drown your sorrows?" she asked leadingly.

Tristan shrugged. "Well, I thought you were straight."

"I am," Dara said wryly.

"Yes, but I also thought you were a guy," Tristan said, smiling. "I didn't think you'd go for me."

"And now you think I would?" Dara asked archly, noting his use of the past tense.

"I don't know," Tristan said with quiet aplomb. "Would you? Even if I wasn't the only one who knew your secret," he added as a qualifier.

She smiled a crooked smile. _Hell, guys like this – this understanding, this smart, this funny, this kind, this…**hot** – don't come along every millennia._ "Yeah…I would, Tristan."


	5. Life's A Bitch

**Life's A Bitch**

* * *

_I hate the world today.  
You're so good to me,  
I know, but I can't change._

_I can understand how you'd be so confused;  
I don't envy you.  
I'm a little bit of everything  
all rolled into one._

_I'm a bitch, I'm a lover;  
I'm a child, I'm a mother.  
I'm a sinner, I'm a saint;  
I do not feel ashamed.  
I'm your Hell, I'm your dream;  
I'm nothing in between.  
You know you wouldn't want it any other way._

_So take me as I am.  
This may mean  
you'll have to be a stronger man.  
Rest assured that  
when I start to make you nervous  
and I'm going to extremes.  
Tomorrow I will change  
and today won't mean a thing._

* * *

**Meredith Brooks – Bitch**

* * *

Of course, things were never that easy.

While Tristan now realized he wasn't gay – or even bi, really – the rest of the world…

Well, the rest of the world was still ignorant of Duke Devlin's real gender. So anyone who saw them out together would assume they were **both** gay.

Ironic, wasn't it, that **neither** of them was?

Life was a bitch, all right.

Luckily, since they both attended Domino High, no one thought it was all that odd that two 'friends' would 'hang out' together occasionally.

Or more than occasionally.

It was disturbingly easy to date in secret. Almost **too** easy. And the anxiousness that this actuality brought about was only compounded by the fact that neither Dara nor Tristan had brought up telling their friends. They were both so happy, but they couldn't tell anybody. Tristan, because while he knew his friends would be okay with either or both of them being gay, didn't want to lie to them.

Dara didn't want to lie, either. But she'd kept her secret for so long, that contemplating actually **telling** someone without mitigating circumstances – such as had been the case with Tristan – involved…

Well, that scared the living daylights out of her.

Almost as much as how quickly she'd become comfortable with Tristan in her life.

It boggled the mind – hers at least.

She and Tristan could talk about anything and everything, it seemed. School, work, politics, religion, Duel Monsters, Dungeon Dice Monsters, their families and friends… Mistakes they'd made, movies they'd seen, books and manga they'd read, people they knew…

Even old girlfriends…

Talk about mistakes.

"What about Serenity?" Tristan asked. "I mean, why did you hit on her if you aren't interested in girls?" he asked, only curiosity in his voice, with no hint of censure.

Dara blushed slightly and squirmed in her seat on the couch. One of the problems of only spending time with Tristan when they were sure they were alone was that there was no else around to bail her out of any sticky situation that happened to come up. "Ah… Well, when I first met her, she seemed like the type of girl I could be friends with…under different circumstances," she finally said, masking her discomfort under a small grin. "And there'd been rumors going around that I was gay – apparently some of those cheerleaders that had been following me around had gotten tired of hitting on me and not getting anywhere – and I wanted to quash them, and I thought pursuing an unattainable girl would be the ticket."

"Rumors that you were gay?" Tristan asked, amusement apparent in his voice. Apparently, they had more in common than he'd thought.

Dara quirked a wry grin at him "Yeah, I know; ironic, isn't it? I mean, I like guys, but that doesn't really work well into my whole deception. Hell, dating doesn't – didn't – really work into my whole deception. I refuse to date girls and lead them on, and the same thing goes for a gay guy, since I am…well…neither gay nor a guy."

"True," Tristan agreed.

Dara thought then that that would be the end of the discussion, but apparently the brunet had more to say on the subject.

"So you went after Serenity because you were worried about what people would think if they thought you were gay," Tristan said.

"Not…exactly," Dara hedged. "I…I didn't want people looking at me too closely and possibly finding out my secret."

Tristan made a noise of encouragement, sensing there was something more on Dara's mind. He'd learned in the past four weeks they'd been 'dating' that while Dara was a very sociable person, she had never allowed herself to get close to anyone until she came to Domino City.

He was the closest thing she had to a best friend; Yugi, Joey and the others were all nice to 'Duke,' but they weren't close.

"I…there haven't really been many times in my life when I cared what people thought of me," she said softly, looking off into the distance. She blinked repeatedly, though no tears were visible, and continued, "My mother loved me no matter what; I think she would have loved me even the way I am now." There was desperate hope in her voice, as if that was an illusion she'd clung to ever since her mother's death – knowing Dara's situation, Tristan thought she probably had held onto it for that long.

"But when she died…well, that started my father off on his whole vengeance kick, which is **why** I am the way I am now. I **used** to care what he thought of me, but I realized quite a while ago that I don't give a shit about him, so why should I care what he thinks?" Dara gave Tristan a half-grin, and the brunet responded in kind. "And he's dead now, so it doesn't matter either way."

"So…you don't care what **anyone** thinks of you?" Tristan asked, trying to mask the disappointment in his tone. He needed to be there for Dara, not getting caught up in his own petty insecurities.

Though, relationships were supposed to be about give and take – he wondered if it was selfish of him to want her to be the one giving this time.

"Actually…yeah, I do," Dara admitted softly. Her eyes flicked uncomfortably from side to side. "I…I care what **you** think of me, Tristan."

A soft smile crept over his face and scooted further down the couch to sit right next to her. Wrapping one arm around her shoulders, Tristan murmured, his voice a deep burr in her ear, "I care about you too, Dara."

A smirk crossed her lips and she pulled him down into a deep, probing kiss. "I'm glad," she said sincerely, her words whispering across his now-damp lips. "It's good to know you don't just consider me another pretty face." With that, she shot him a wide grin and bounded up from the couch. "Now, I have a calculus test tomorrow that I need to study for. You can join me if you want," she offered, before sauntering out of the room to her library/office/study.

Tristan just blinked after her, the whirlwind that his girlfriend had become having utterly confused him with her split-second personality – and attitude – change.

One minute she was depressed, the next she was all smiles. Yesterday she'd bitched him out one minute for holding out her chair in a restaurant – okay, that was a bad idea on his part, if only because they were trying to keep a low profile – and the next she'd turned right around and flirted with him all through dessert.

Today she was one thing; tomorrow she'd be something completely different. And neither of them were what she would have been yesterday.

She was definitely a bundle of contradictions.

Tristan grinned. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

Life may have been a bitch – but at least his girlfriend wasn't.

All of the time, anyway.


	6. So Happy Together, Mostly

**So Happy Together – Mostly**

* * *

_The 'Bruce Lee wannabe' is from the manga, Volume 4, Chapter 25: The One-Inch Terror._

* * *

_Imagine me and you, I do.  
I think about you day and night; it's only right  
to think about the girl you love and hold her tight.  
So happy together._

_Me and you, and you and me.  
__No matter how they tossed the dice, it had to be.  
__The only one for me is you, and you for me.  
__So happy together._

* * *

**The Turtles – Happy Together**

* * *

No matter how crazy it got trying to keep their relationship – and Dara's gender – a secret, Tristan wouldn't have had it any other way. The only one for him was Dara.

And he was pretty sure she felt the same way.

All in all, they were **extremely** happy together.

Now, if only things could stay that way.

Yeah, right.

* * *

People were starting to suspect. Their friends especially.

Dara was, to Tristan's surprise, a very demonstrative, affectionate person, when she was allowed to be. Constrained by her deception for almost a decade, she had never allowed herself to get close to people, but now that Tristan knew, she felt more comfortable being herself around him.

Unfortunately, she'd become so comfortable around Tristan in the past two months of them 'dating' that she occasionally forgot to be circumspect around other people.

Which, occasionally, caused problems like the one that had happened today.

Yugi, Joey, Téa, and the others had all gotten used to Tristan's new friendship with the dice duelist. Yugi had been trying for some time to get Duke to open up to them; he seemed to like taking in stray dogs.

No pun intended, considering Joey was the first.

The spiky-haired duelist had extended invitations of friendship to Wheeler, Tristan, and Seto Kaiba. Granted, the CEO had yet to accept the invite, but…

Anyway, back to the matter at hand. Yes, the others had gotten used to including 'Duke' as part of their group. But even Téa was starting to comment on how close 'he' and Tristan were.

They sat together – too close, at times, though neither of them really noticed unless it was brought to their attention – they talked about things only they knew about – which could be excused as just a 'friend thing'; Kami knew Tristan done much the same with Joey, and the blond with Yugi – and they were very affectionate with each other.

Or, rather, 'Duke' was very affectionate with Tristan.

And today, the effects of that had almost blown their cover.

They'd been in the park, running around and having fun like a bunch of little kids. And Joey, the biggest kid, had been the cause of the whole thing. Joey had started a game of keep-away with 'Duke's' ponytail holder. Dara had been pissed, of course – she looked even more feminine with her hair partly down, and that was **not** good – and had given chase while simultaneously trying to hold her hair out of her face.

Joey had tossed the elastic band to Yugi, who, not wanting to get involved – but still in good enough spirits to enjoy the joke – tossed it to Téa, who, much for the same reasons as Yugi, tossed it Ryou. Ryou **would** have given the band back to 'Duke', but his yami decided to get in on the fun and appeared outside of the Ring in spirit form, grabbed the band and tossed it back to Joey. Yami, having seen Bakura come out, naturally wanted to be around to divert any problems that might arise from the other dark spirit's appearance, so he'd also come out of the Puzzle and coalesced into spirit form. Joey had then tossed the elastic band to Yami, and the former Pharaoh, having no clue what was going on, took the blond's words to 'throw it ta anyone besides Duke' seriously.

He threw the band to Tristan, who, no fool he, turned right around and gave the band to 'Duke.'

'Duke' let out a relieved breath and snatched the band up, quickly putting 'his' hair back to rights. "**Thank** you, Tristan," 'he' said, quickly combing through the tangled strands to get them back into some semblance of order.

Dara was extremely appreciative, and her thanks were maybe a tad bit too profuse. But no one commented on it, chalking it up to 'Duke's' slightly eccentric nature. 'He' was extremely sensitive regarding comments on 'his' hairstyle and clothing choices.

And who could understand that better than they, who hung out with Yugi Moto?

"No problem, Dev," Tristan said, using the nickname he'd gifted Dara with only a week after they'd gotten together. He'd been afraid he'd call her 'Dara' in public, so had wanted something he could use without worrying about letting out her secret. A shorter version of her last name was okay to be overheard.

The others were okay with Tristan giving 'Duke' back 'his' hairband. That needed no explanation – after all, Joey had done the same thing when the Bruce Lee wannabe had taken away Yugi's Puzzle a few years back.

However, the fact that Tristan ended up helping 'him' get 'his' hair back into order…

Well, that was a little harder to pass off as 'just friends.'

"Y'know," Joey piped up. "You two are actin' awfully gay."

Dara's eyes went wide as saucers and Tristan froze in the act of pushing one stray lock of raven hair behind her ear. The brunet was absolutely terrified that his indiscreet actions had brought Dara's secret closer to the surface. But Dara, for all that she was equally as afraid of such, had been dealing with the possibility for far longer than Tristan had.

When in doubt, snap out a witty comeback. It always worked.

"Ne, Wheeler, since when is calling someone gay an insult?" 'Duke' asked innocently. "I mean, I wouldn't think **you'd** think so."

Joey frowned. "Whaddya mean?" His expression clearly said, 'Ya **aren't** about to call me gay if ya know what's good for ya.'

Affecting an innocent air, 'Duke' said, mock-surprised, "You mean you didn't **know**?"

"Know what?" Joey asked testily.

"Yugi and Ryou – and consequently Yami and Bakura – are gay," 'Duke' said slowly, as if afraid that Joey was going to be completely boggled by this information.

Of course, Joey **already** knew about his friends' sexual preferences…

Which is what made it so funny when the blond noticed Yugi and Ryou glaring at him. Yami and Bakura were, as well – for once they agreed on something: Joey was a baka! – but the two hikaris' glowers were much more scary for the fact that they rarely ever got angry.

Especially **this** angry.

So angry that the combined rage Yami and Bakura **both** were expressing paled in comparison.

Joey gulped. "I…ano…er…"

Yugi and Ryou both advanced on their 'friend', causing Joey to do the smartest thing he'd done all afternoon.

Turn tail and run.

The two hikaris gave chase, all the while screaming at their blond friend. The two yamis, on the other hand, both burst out laughing and disappeared, presumably back into their respective Millennium Items to keep their other halves company.

Or, in Bakura's case, to give Ryou insults to shout.

Téa followed, most likely wanting to try and calm her friends down.

Dara and Tristan, for their part, both breathed huge sighs of relief. By tomorrow this whole thing about them being gay would have been purposely forgotten in the wake of Joey not wanting to remember his idiocy.

"That was a close one," Tristan said.

"Very," Dara agreed.

Without saying anything else, they both started walking back to the Black Crown. Their afternoon of playing Frisbee in the park had been cut short, and they each figured they might as well make the most of their time together.

"I'm sorry," Tristan said at length, but Dara cut him off before he could continue.

"Don't be," she said. "It was bound to happen sooner or later. And it wasn't as bad as it could have been, either."

"I'll try to be more careful," Tristan promised.

"I know." Dara smiled softly at him. Then she ducked her head and sighed. "But eventually…they're going to find out. At least that we're dating. We can't keep it a secret forever."

"I told you I don't mind if they think we're gay," Tristan said softly, wary of prying ears. He was glad they were nearing the shop now; Tristan knew they'd be able to talk privately inside.

Pulling her keys out from her pocket, Dara sighed. "But I do," she said, and from her tone of voice, Tristan knew it bothered her more because it was another lie in her life and less because she didn't want people thinking she was homosexual.

It always came down to this, Tristan mused. She was afraid to tell anyone, but she desperately wanted to. All he could hope was that he was doing the right thing by assuring her it would be okay no matter what she chose to tell them.

"Despite how much of an idiot Joey can be at times, they're a pretty accepting bunch," Tristan said blandly. "They'd accept us if they thought we were gay…and they'd accept us if you told them the truth, Dara." He shut the door behind them softly, twisting the lock before turning back around to face his girlfriend.

"I'd like to think so," she replied, maneuvering over to the couch and sprawling on it with her characteristic grace.

_Well, that's progress, of a sort,_ Tristan mused wryly. _Normally she denies it._

Tristan walked over behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders and starting to massage them. She was tense, almost as tense as she'd been when he had first found out. "Hey," Tristan whispered in her ear. "It'll be okay."

"It will?" she asked, moaning slightly as she leaned back into his touch. "Mmm…"

"Whatever happens, you'll always have me," Tristan promised.

Dara smiled, a genuine smile this time. "Thanks, Tristan," she said.

"No problem, babe." Tristan smiled back.

After all, what were boyfriends for?


	7. A Good Run Of Not So Bad Love

**A Good Run Of Not-So-Bad Love**

* * *

_The instructions I give for the BSRI may not be entirely accurate. Don't take my word on it; consult a professional if you're really interested._

* * *

_A high roller even when the chips are down.  
To win her over, I'd see the tables turn around.  
She's ten the hard way; I can feel it in my bones.  
She'll be makin' my day and not another night alone. _

I'd bet it all on a good run of bad luck.  
Seven come eleven and she could be mine.  
Luck be a lady, and I'm gonna find love  
_comin' on the bottom line._

* * *

**Clint Black – Good Run Of Back Luck**

* * *

The next month saw a distinct change in their relationship, one Tristan wasn't sure he liked. Dara was acting exceedingly passive-aggressive – kissing him, touching him, but always backing off before things went too far, which was slightly frustrating – and he wasn't sure he liked it.

Oh, the making out was definitely fun, but while he loved the fact that she was so unpredictable, Dara was practically running hot and cold right now. One minute she'd kiss him as if she'd die if she couldn't get enough of him, and the next minute she'd be running like a nun in fear for her virginity.

It wasn't like her.

Or was it?

For as long as Tristan had known 'Duke' and the even shorter time he'd known Dara, she'd always gone after what she wanted with remarkable determination. Whether it be reluctant revenge on Solomon Moto on her father's behalf, a perfect grade in chemistry, or him spending an entire and uninterrupted afternoon with her, she pursued them all with the same single-minded intensity. It was actually pretty hot, now that he thought of it, that she had such strength of will. But for all that she occasionally changed her mind at lightning speed, she'd never – as Duke **or** Dara – been fickle or a tease.

But that was what she was acting like now.

Tristan didn't know what to think. He'd only known her as a girl for three months, after all. Maybe he was finally seeing the **real** Dara.

But somehow, Tristan was pretty sure that wasn't it. Whatever it was, though, it was starting to get on his nerves. He really liked Dara – maybe more than liked her, actually – and to see her like this…

Well, it was off-putting, to say the least.

He **really** needed to talk to her.

* * *

His chance, thankfully for his sanity – what was left of after having lived in Domino City through Duelist Kingdom, Battle City, Noah's World and all the other craziness – came the next afternoon.

Joey had gotten detention for getting into a fight with Kaiba – again. Yugi had promised to watch the store for his grandfather, and Yami was helping. Tristan couldn't help but hope that no one came in that afternoon since those two would probably be necking on the counter after five minutes.

He'd walked in on them last week. Luckily, they both still had their clothes on.

That time, anyway.

Téa had a dance class, and Ryou said he was going to study for his Literature test. He didn't say what was Bakura was up to, but when the white-haired hikari got that half-anxious, half-amused glint in his doe-brown eyes, everyone had learned it meant some malicious mischief would soon occur, courtesy of Bakura.

In any event, both he and Dara were at loose ends that afternoon, and consequently ended up back at her apartment. They could have gone back to his house, but his parents would be home in an hour or so, and he didn't really want to have this talk where anyone could overhear them.

He and Dara were, at that moment, involved in a game of poker. She'd suggested making it strip poker, but Tristan had vetoed the idea. He was not about to fall for that. He was determined to have this talk with her, and nakedness would not be conducive to coherent thought.

Especially since he sucked at poker.

As Dara shuffled the cards for the fifth time, Tristan made his move.

"Ano…Dara?"

"Yeah, Tris?" Dara looked up from her shuffling.

Taking a deep breath, Tristan plunged in. "Something's been bothering you lately and I'd like to know what," he said bluntly.

Flicking the brunet a quick look out of the corner of her eye, Dara said dismissively, "There's been nothing big on my mind lately."

"I didn't say it was anything big, I just said something's been on your mind lately," Tristan corrected. "And I'd like to know what so I can help."

Dara sighed and slumped back in her chair, the very picture of reluctant capitulation. She half-heartedly shuffled the cards a few more times before dropping them down onto the kitchen table. "We're studying how gender affects the mind in my psychology class," she said, her words coming almost from out of left field.

But Tristan knew they were relevant. Dara might try to beat around the bush to get out of conversations she didn't want to have, but she'd never lie to him. It might take her a while to get to the point, but eventually – with a healthy dose of prodding and cajoling on his part – she'd get there.

He hoped.

"And?" Tristan coaxed.

"It's just…getting to me, that's all," Dara said, trying to put him off yet again.

But Tristan would not be deterred. "How is it getting to you?" he asked. _She really does have bad luck. Gender issues…both in class and in her life._

"A few weeks ago, we filled out a worksheet in class," she said softly. "It wasn't for a grade, or anything, just to 'see psychology in action' as Nasana-Sensei says."

_Ah, we're getting closer,_ Tristan thought. "What was the worksheet about?"

"The BSRI – the Bem Sex Role Inventory," Dara replied, voice flat. She'd gone back to fiddling with the cards, but had now put them aside and was playing with her dice earring. Something that Tristan knew she only did when she was either extremely upset or nervous.

Or both.

Having no clue what that was – but guessing by her tone of voice and the her depressed demeanor of the past few weeks that it wasn't something Dara had enjoyed – Tristan asked patiently, "And what's that?"

"The teacher said it was 'designed for conducting empirical research on psychological androgyny,'" Dara replied, which still didn't exactly clear anything up. It did, however, give Tristan chills up his spine.

This wasn't good.

"What exactly does this BSRI test?" Tristan asked, a numbing dread clawing at his gut.

"Your gender," Dara replied bluntly, her eyes flicking to meet his for one brief moment. Tristan was floored by the desolation he saw in them. "Or, at least, how you perceive it," she qualified.

"You mean your…psychological gender?" Tristan asked. _Oh, boy…or girl, _he thought irreverently.

This **definitely** wasn't good. And neither was her luck, lately, it seemed.

"Hai," Dara said softly.

Deciding to take a different tack for a moment, Tristan asked, "How does it work?"

"You're given a list of sixty personality traits," Dara said readily, seeming more willing to talk now that the subject was about something external rather than personal. "Twenty of them are considered masculine traits, twenty are considered feminine, and the last twenty are filler – they're considered neutral, and important to your score. You don't find out until after you've filled the worksheet out which ones are which."

"And what do you do with them?" Tristan coaxed.

"You score them for yourself," Dara replied. "On a scale of one to seven, one being that it never or almost never applies to you, and seven being that it always or almost always does. Once you've put down a number for each trait, you total up the numbers for each category and then divide the result by twenty."

"Then what do you do?"

"You divide the masculine average by the feminine average. If the number you got for the masculine traits is high, and the number you got for the feminine traits is low, then the final number would be positive, which is masculine. If the final number is between 1.5 and 2.5, then you're masculine; if it's between 0.5 and 1.5, then you're considered near-masculine," Dara recited. She was using a monotone voice, almost as if she'd memorized the instructions.

Or just gone over and over them, trying and hoping to find some new piece of information…

"If the number you got for the feminine traits is high and the number you got for the masculine traits is low, then the final number would be negative, which is feminine," she continued without prompting. "If the final number is between negative 1.5 and 2.5, then you're feminine; if it's between 0.5 and negative 1.5, then you're considered near-feminine."

"So does it just have those two basic outcomes or…" Tristan wasn't sure if there were more genders than just male and female, but psychologists always had to make things crazy.

Ironic, wasn't it?

"There were four possible outcomes," Dara replied in a monotone. "Masculine, feminine, androgynous, or undifferentiated."

_Ah, and I think we're getting warmer. Just a little more information…_ "I get what the first two are, but wouldn't those last two be the same thing?"

"They're opposites of a sort, just like male and female," Dara revealed, eyes looking anywhere but at Tristan. "Androgynous means you scored high on both the masculine and feminine scales, and undifferentiated means you scored low on both of them."

"So androgynous is both and undifferentiated is neither?" Tristan asked.

"Yeah."

"So if the number you got for both the feminine and masculine traits is almost the same that would be androgynous?" Tristan had to ask.

"Anything between 0.5 and negative 0.5 is androgynous or undifferentiated," Dara said, eyes still focused on the table. "So if you got a mean score of four for both the masculine and feminine traits, you'd end up with zero. Perfectly androgynous."

"How do you tell the difference between androgynous and undifferentiated?" Tristan asked, brow furrowing. This seemed like an awfully haphazard way to determine gender. Almost like some magazine quiz that told you how good a lover you were based on whether you liked silk or cotton sheets.

"You go by the original masculine/feminine mean scores," Dara said. An exhausted look had glazed over her eyes, and she continued in a tired voice, "If you got a four or higher on both, and the numbers are extremely close, then you're androgynous. If you got less than four on both, and the numbers are extremely close, then you're undifferentiated."

The dread was back at its clawing but it wasn't numb anymore. "What did you score as?" Tristan asked gently, just **knowing** she'd ended up as one of the latter two.

"Androgynous," Dara said in a dull voice. "I got a mean score of four on all three scales. I'm perfectly, utterly, completely genderless." With that final pronouncement, she let out a shuddering breath and buried her head in her hands.

Dara's words from the first real conversation they'd had in her hotel room came rushing back to him: _"… A psychologist would have a field day with me. Not only did I probably end up with a gender disorder from pretending to be a guy for so long that I now think I'm dressing in drag whenever I wear a dress, but I also have an identity disorder…"_

Rising from his chair and coming over to stand beside her, Tristan placed his hands gently on her shoulders. "No, you're not, Dara," Tristan said compassionately. "You're an amazing girl." _And I think I'm falling in love with you…_ he thought, amazed.

"Amazing, huh?" she asked, voice a minuscule amount lighter.

"Yeah," Tristan agreed, releasing her shoulders and turning her chair around so she could face him. He hunkered down on the floor, staring up at her bang-covered eyes. "You're **my** girl. I don't know how I got so lucky."

"Yours, huh?" Her eyes met his for a moment, lips twitching in an almost-smile.

Tristan nodded. "All mine," he concurred, the timbre of his voice sending a shiver through her. "And besides, I bet you weren't the only one who got skewed results," he added.

Her eyes lost their regained shine, and she lowered her head, becoming depressed again. "Yes, actually, I was. Even Ryou ended up coming out as near-masculine," she said defeatedly. "And the worst thing is – it was probably the best answer I could have gotten, all told."

"It was?" Tristan asked confusedly.

Dara nodded. "If I'd come up as feminine or near-feminine on the scale, can you imagine the teasing that would have resulted?" She laughed, her voice slightly hysterical. "But if I'd come up as masculine or even near-masculine…" She let her voice trail off as she looked away.

_Damn. She just can't catch a break, can she?_ Tristan wondered how often something like this happened to Dara, to bring up all her old – or maybe not so old – insecurities.

"You were the only person who came up as androgynous?" Tristan asked, as suddenly everything clicked into place. "Or even undifferentiated?"

"Yeah," Dara confirmed softly. "Nobody else was got between 0.5 and negative 0.5."

"This sounds like one of those quizzes in Cosmo or something," Tristan said, shaking his head. "For entertainment only. You shouldn't read anything into it, Dara."

"People are notorious for doing what they shouldn't, Tristan," Dara pointed out.

"How accurate could that scale be, though? It doesn't sounds very…well, sound," Tristan said.

"It was created it 1974," she replied.

"So it's over thirty years old?" Tristan asked incredulously. "No wonder it's so flawed. Computers become obsolete in three months; this thing must be so substandard it's a dinosaur."

Her lips curved up into a genuine, albeit wan smile. "You're probably right," she admitted. "It was very out of date – stuff like 'self-reliance,' 'independent,' and 'has leadership capabilities' were still considered primarily male traits," she groused.

Tristan chuckled. "Those psychologists have obviously never met Joey, have they? He's the most irresponsible person I know."

Dara shook her head slowly. "I guess not."

Tristan's legs were about to give out from staying in his awkward position for so long, so he dropped down to his knees in preparation for getting back on his feet. "So this is what's been eating you for the past few weeks?" he asked, relieved that the big talk was finally over.

_Or maybe not,_ he thought as he saw her close up again. _Damn, what else is running through her brain?_

"Mostly," she admitted.

"And what was the rest of it about?" Tristan asked, resigning himself to a pair of sore knees.

She straightened up slightly and looked him square in the eye, an almost defeated expression on her face. "If even I'm so confused over my gender I don't think I'm a girl, what does that mean?"

"What does that mean for what?" Tristan asked.

"For us," she said, at a loss.

Tristan's thoughts had been racing ever since Dara's final proclamation about her lack of gender and he thought he'd finally hit on something that would make her feel better. "Hey, I liked you when I thought you were a guy," he pointed out, one hand coming up to card through her hair. "I still like you now that I know you're a girl. Why would I stop liking you just because some stupid, out-of-date test says you're **both**?"

The expression on her face was almost – but not quite, considering the circumstances – comical: part dumbstruck, part relief and part, 'Is he crazy?'

"I…don't know," she admitted on a laugh. "I guess I'm just being stupid."

"No…just human," he corrected, cupping the back of her neck and drawing her down into a kiss. _And I definitely think I'm falling for you, imperfections and all…_

Not that he was glad she had so many problems, but he was glad that he was there to help her with them.

After all, if you had someone to talk to, problems didn't seem so bad.

Neither did luck, for that matter.


	8. On The Verge Of Falling

**On The Verge Of Falling**

* * *

**Japanese**

* * *

Ano – Um…  
Demo – But  
Ecchi – (Playfully) Pervert/Perverted  
Kami-sama – God  
Okaa-san – Mother (Your Own)

* * *

_Oh, she shouldn't have worn that dress.  
The way it curled around when she was spinnin'  
just killed me dead._

_My heart began to tell my body and my soul  
that it had gotten in the mood to lose control._

_All I wanted to be was cool.  
It ain't my style to overheat, much less burn.  
But as we floated across the floor,  
all at once I flashed right past the point of no return.  
And when we said goodnight,  
the sun was on the rise.  
And any stars that hadn't set  
had fallen in my eyes. _

I'm about to give into this urge.  
Once more slow dance,  
with her arms around me.  
One more long glance,  
and nothing will slow down me.  
I've got no chance;  
if I'm not in love, I'm on the verge.

* * *

**Collin Raye – On The Verge**

* * *

"Tristan?" Dara asked, sidling over to her boyfriend where he was doing his history homework on the couch.

"Yeah?" Tristan responded distractedly, shaking off thoughts of Feudal Japan and Samurai warriors in favor of the dark-haired girl in front of him.

Dara was better than homework any day.

"Let's go out this Friday," Dara said in a rush.

"Okay," Tristan said agreeably. "You want to get dinner? See a movie?"

"Ano…actually…I meant go out on a real date," Dara said tentatively.

Tristan's brow furrowed. "Demo…you mean, as a couple?"

"Yeah," Dara said, smiling shyly. "You want to?"

Nodding slowly, Tristan said, "Of course, but…where could we go where no one would see us?" While he and Dara had gone out together before, they had always kept up the pretense of them just being two friends out for a good time. Two **male** friends. Dara wanted to go out as a couple – which would necessitate her dressing up as a girl. They'd have to go someplace where no one would recognize either of them.

"Why don't we go back to the Phoenix?" Dara suggested. "I really like dancing and the Phoenix has good music."

The club they'd first met at; seemed appropriate for their first real 'date', Tristan thought. "Sounds good. When do you want to go?"

"This Friday?" Dara half-asked.

"Cool," Tristan agreed.

Dara gave him a blinding smile and a kiss before bouncing off across the room to pick up the magazine she'd been reading before she had asked her question.

Or **hadn't** been reading, Tristan thought as he noticed her open the magazine to the exact same place she'd opened it to an hour ago.

Narrowing his eyes thoughtfully, he took in the tense set of Dara's shoulders and revised his opinion of the conversation they had just ended. _When I first found out, she said that she normally went out at least once or twice a month, _Tristan mused thoughtfully._ But she hasn't been out as Dara in almost four months – since we got together. Must be getting rather 'twitchy'._

Tristan could understand that and he certainly had no objections. The times he'd gotten to see Dara in something other than her normal guy-wear were few and far between. **Too** few and far between, in his opinion.

Dara always looked good to him, but he had to admit that seeing her as a girl was better, if only because she was more comfortable like that. As herself; her **true** self. Dara always seemed a little tense when she was masquerading as Duke. She could relax as Dara.

And relaxed Dara equaled happy Dara. And happy Dara equaled **beautiful** Dara, in Tristan's opinion.

Not that she wasn't beautiful all the time…

He couldn't **wait** until Friday night.

* * *

Friday night dawned cool and clear, a perfect night for dancing until dawn.

Or anything else that struck their fancies.

Blushing slightly, Tristan pushed those rather ecchi thoughts from his mind. He was a gentleman – his mother had raised him as one, and though he still didn't make his bed every morning or clean his room as often as he should (read: never) that part of her training had stuck – and he wasn't going to push, force, or otherwise coerce Dara into doing anything she didn't want to do.

Of course, if she **did** want to do something…

Shaking his head, Tristan berated himself for getting carried away. Dara was the one who was…well…for lack of a better word, 'vulnerable' here, and she should be the one to bring it up.

Well, beyond kissing, anyway…

He was pretty sure she wouldn't mind him initiating a little making out on the dance floor, though. Anything beyond that he'd leave up to her.

Satisfied with his decision – not that he'd really been prepared to decide on anything else – Tristan sped down the final few blocks to the Black Crown, pulling up outside Dara's personal entrance. A feeling of déjà vu washed over him as he realized it had only been a little over four months since the last time he'd sat in this exact spot. Only then he'd had a box of pastries, dozens of questions, and a stomach full of butterflies as company.

Now he just had the butterflies and a healthy dose of anticipation.

Turning off the motor, he parked his motorcycle and headed for the door. Taking a deep breath for courage – though he didn't know why he felt so anxious all of a sudden and would **need** courage – he rang the bell.

Needless to say, he was surprised when the door opened to reveal Dara wearing a neck-to-ankles trench coat – with a hood. About the only parts of her that could be seen were her face and her feet.

* * *

Dara quirked a grin at her boyfriend's confused expression. "I can't very well be seen leaving my house dressed like a girl, now can I?" she asked practically.

Tristan shook his head, a sheepish smile coming over his face. "I guess not," he agreed, rubbing the back of his neck at his idiocy.

Her smile widening, Dara said, "Don't feel too stupid, Tristan; it's not like this is something you have experience with."

"Not yet," Tristan replied, his intent clear in his voice.

Dara was taken aback by the sincerity in her boyfriend's voice. _He **wants** experience with what life is like for me?_ she thought. _More than what he already has?_

A glow of warmth spread through her. _Kami-sama, how did I get so lucky?_

* * *

One hour later, after a motorcycle ride fraught with anticipation, Tristan and Dara stood outside of the Phoenix. While Tristan tucked his helmet and the spare away, Dara busied herself with taking off her coat.

His appointed task finished, Tristan turned back to his girlfriend. "So, what…" His voice trailed off as he caught sight of Dara.

His logical train of thought derailed with visions of the black-haired angel in front of him, Tristan couldn't form words. All he could do was stare at Dara.

If he'd thought she was sexy the first time he saw her, she was positively **stunning** tonight.

A strapless dress – tight white bodice, flowing black skirt – hugged **all** her curves. Black high-heeled sandals on her feet gave her the illusion of legs up to **there**. Her hair had been pulled back in an intricate twisting braid, leaving a few raven curls to frame her face and baring a neck that was so delectable it would have made a vampire swoon with envy.

It certainly made Tristan feel light-headed.

For all that he was enjoying the view, however, Tristan suddenly wished she hadn't worn that dress tonight. He had **no** earthly clue how he was going to keep his hands to himself.

Sheer will, maybe?

Taking in her flushed-with-happiness face, joy-bright green eyes and overall sexy appearance, Tristan rolled mental eyes.

**Nobody** had that much willpower.

Hopefully she wouldn't maim him with one of her dice when his hands strayed.

* * *

Once they were inside the club, Tristan hid a wince. The press of bodies close around them caused him and Dara to have to walk **very** close together as they crossed the room. It **definitely** wasn't helping his determination to keep his hands to himself.

At all.

Tristan gave a silent sigh of relief when he grabbed them a table near the wall, finally able to breathe easier now that there was some distance between them. They sipped their drinks and talked and he was able to shove his more 'personal' thoughts about Dara to the back of his mind.

For a while, anyway…

But then, about half an hour after they'd arrived, Dara turned to him and said, "You wanna dance?" and the thoughts came rushing back full force.

Tristan froze. Dance? As in, hold her in his arms and move back and forth across the dance floor, their bodies swaying together in sultry tandem, making him think about doing something similarly – only horizontal, and involving no clothes?

Was she kidding?

"Sure," he said.

What, like he was going to say no?

* * *

As they moved towards the dance floor, the fast-paced techno song that was playing cut off at that moment, and a slow ballad took up in its place. Rather than let any awkwardness creep into their conversation because of this happening, Tristan drew Dara out onto the dance floor, hands placed decorously on her waist.

Dara marveled at how at ease Tristan seemed to be, his graceful steps making her feel as clumsy as an elephant on roller skates, even though she was actually fairly adept at dancing.

The music segued smoothly into a marginally faster song, and their steps picked up the pace.

As Tristan spun Dara out on his arm as the music swelled, she laughed out loud. "Where did you learn to dance like this?" she asked breathlessly once she was back in his arms.

He grinned teasingly at her. "What, you thought I had two left feet?"

"No," she defended herself. "I just didn't know you were such a good dancer."

Tristan shrugged and twirled her around, admiring the way her dress swirled around her legs with the movement. "Okaa-san made both me and my sister take ballroom dancing lessons. The steps don't come in handy all that often, but being able to do moves like this…" he curled an arm around her back and proceeded to her dip her so low that her hair brushed the floor, "…does."

Her breath caught in her throat at the look in his eyes, and she barely noticed that they were once again standing, moving with graceful steps across the floor. The music filled her ears, the hazy air and dim lights made her feel light-headed in a good way, and she felt as if she could happily dance all night in Tristan's arms.

* * *

And they did.

As dawn approached, Tristan and Dara found themselves still dancing, almost cheek-to-cheek, swaying back and forth to a slow song. Even if they weren't the only dancers on the floor, they wouldn't have been able to tell the difference. The Phoenix stayed open from dusk until dawn, and when Dara and Tristan finally left, the sun was on the rise.

"I can't believe we stayed here all night," Dara said, chuckling.

"I can," Tristan said ruefully as he limped along beside her towards the parking lot. "I don't think my feet will ever be the same."

Huffing, Dara clipped his head a playful blow. "How do you think mine feel? High heels are murder – they're probably based on some medieval torture device."

"Then why did you wear them?" Tristan asked practically.

"What, you don't like the way they look?" Dara asked sweetly, her innocent tone at odds with the saucy smile on her face. She stopped her progress towards the parking lot and gave a little twirl, her dress billowing up almost to her hips.

Eyes glazing over, Tristan wanted to say something intelligent like, 'Of course I like the way they look, but you didn't have to put yourself out for me,' but was only able to come up with, "Ano…I do…"

Dara laughed into her hand. "Boys are so silly," she said teasingly. "Their brains go offline when they see a pretty girl."

Tristan nodded vigorously – Dara was **very** pretty. And his brain had obviously short-circuited, considering the dopey grin on his face.

Her chuckles grew louder and she swayed towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Pressing her lips against his, she smiled into the kiss as he started, brain finally defrosting enough to realize what was going on.

Moaning as Tristan's tongue stroked soft warmth against hers, his hands caressing her back with gentle touches, she shivered with want. The air was cool against her skin, pricking goosebumps to life on her bare arms, but she felt as if her whole body was on fire.

Tristan felt much the same. All thoughts of being a gentleman, and not pushing Dara to go farther than she wanted, flew out the proverbial window. All he could think of was how much he wanted her…wanted more. More kisses, more touches…more Dara.

An inferno was building between them, hot desire flaring to life like their passions.

Lips caressed each other, hands stroked across shoulders and further down, bodies pressed so tight against each other it was as if they wanted to share the same skin. Spiraling higher, their ardor only seemed to grow more intense with each passing moment, until finally it had to find an outlet…or end.

Tristan's nimble hands pressed soothing patterns into Dara's back, coaxing a lustful shudder out of her, and bringing her – unfortunately – back to reality. They were in the parking lot of a dance club, and the sun was rising. They really shouldn't be having a make-out session there, no matter how good it felt.

After what seemed like an eternity of passion set in that one motion, the two parted, the need for air – more than some hint of decorum on a public sidewalk – making them withdraw.

Dara cleared her throat and smiled sheepishly. "We…really shouldn't be doing this here," she said breathlessly, obviously reluctant.

_Then where **should** we be doing this?_ Tristan wanted to ask, but didn't. He remembered the promise he'd made himself; he wasn't going to push her. "You're right," he agreed, voice husky, but made no move to pull away from her. Smiling shyly at each other, they just stood there within each other's embrace, under the clear, starry sky.

And even though it was impossible for two people without the magic of Millennium Items to have a mind-link, they nevertheless were thinking the exact same thing at that exact moment:

_I could fall in love with you…maybe I already have._


	9. Ready To Fall In Love

**Ready To Fall In Love**

* * *

**Japanese**

* * *

Okaa-san – Mother (Your Own)  
Suki da yo – Literally, this means, 'I like you best.' In most circles, however, it's come to mean something closer to, 'I love you.'

* * *

_I get a feeling I can't explain  
whenever your eyes meet mine.  
My heart spins in circles  
and I lose all space and time.  
And now that we're standing face-to-face  
somethin' tells me it's gonna be okay… _

No one before you has gotten to me this way.  
And now that we're standing face-to-face  
there's something that I need to say…

I'm ready to fall in love tonight;  
ready to hold my heart open wide.  
I can't promise forever, but baby, I'll try…  
Yes, I'm ready to fall in love tonight.

Nothing is certain, this I know.  
Wherever we're headed I'm ready to go.  
I can't promise forever, but baby, I'll try.  
Yes, I'm ready to fall in love tonight…  
Yes, I'm ready to fall in love tonight…  
Yes, I'm ready to fall in love tonight…

* * *

**Meredith Edwards – Ready To Fall**

* * *

Another month had passed, and Tristan had grown even surer of the thought that had flitted through his head that afternoon five weeks ago when he had comforted Dara, and again the next week at the club.

It had started as just a feeling he couldn't explain whenever he looked into her eyes. Clichéd though it may have been, it caused his heart to perform flip-flops in his chest and hours went by in what seemed to be mere seconds when he thought about her.

Nothing before in his life had ever made him feel like that. So free, and yet connected to another person; so wonderfully warm whenever they were together. And he wanted to be with her as much as possible.

He didn't know when it had happened, or what had prompted it, but…

He was in love with her.

It was an amazing, heady feeling, and one he wouldn't trade for the world.

Tristan just wished he knew if she felt the same way. After all, as far as he knew, he was the only other person who knew her secret. He was pretty much her only dating option.

Was she just going out with him because she felt she had no other choice?

He tried not to think of that, since his heart sank into his stomach whenever he did.

Of course, while he was trying not to think of that, Dara had been doing some 'not-thinking' of her own…

* * *

"What makes it worth it for you?" Dara asked from out of nowhere.

Tristan was stunned. One minute they were sitting in the living room watching a movie and the next she comes up with a question like **that**? "What?" he asked incredulously.

Dara sighed and averted her eyes. "What makes this relationship worth it for you?" she reiterated. "We can't tell anyone we're together, and even if we did, they'd think we're both gay."

_I thought I was gay when I first realized my feelings for you. And while most of the world is iffy about gays, our friends wouldn't care; you know that._ "Like I care," Tristan tried to reply, but was cut off by Dara's next words.

"Which would probably be preferable to telling them I'm a girl because then they'd think we're **both** freaks – **me** for cross-dressing as a lifestyle and **you** for dating me," Dara continued. She was rambling now, her words coming out faster than she could think, but she supposed that was what happened when you kept all your fears and insecurities bottled up inside and almost never let them out.

Sensing this was going to be an involved conversation, Tristan grabbed the remote and pressed the mute button. They didn't need any distractions – and this conversation, which had definitely been a long time in coming, was more important than watching Star Wars for the umpteenth time. "You're not a freak, Dara," Tristan said, repeating his words from several months before. It still amazed him – and not in a good way – that Dara could present such a façade of self-confidence as Duke, but inside, she was a complete emotional wreck.

It was times like this that made him glad her father had died in the fire that that burned down the original Black Crown, if only because he could never figure out a painful enough way of killing him were he still living.

Plus, he didn't think she'd appreciate him getting thrown in prison. Even if she probably **would** appreciate the sentiment.

"And I don't get what makes this relationship worth it for you; hell, we're not even having sex, so why the fuck do you stick with me?" she demanded, seemingly having run out of steam, as she collapsed back into her chair once her words had run out.

_Is that was this is about?_ Tristan thought, confused. _She thinks I'll leave her if we don't have sex?_

_Hey, I can wait…not forever, but then I don't think she can, either, _Tristan reflected, remembering one particularly heated make-out session three weeks prior that had almost ended with them both topless.

Taking a good look at his girlfriend, Tristan thought that while that might have been the fear she'd **voiced**, it wasn't actually the one at the forefront of her mind. Dara kept slanting him looks out of the corner of her lowered eyes; they seemed to be half-yearning, half-disappointment.

It all clicked in his head: her flirtatious manner, how she was always so affectionate with him though she seemed reluctant to go too far or too fast, her leading questions about the future… _So she's wondering why I haven't made a move?_ Tristan wondered disbelievingly._ Does she **want** me to? Does she think I don't really want her because I've been going slow? I was trying to let her set the pace; Okaa-san always taught me to be a gentleman…_

Turning that over in his mind, Tristan realized that he might have been proceeding on the wrong social premise.

_But she taught me to chivalrous to **girls** – Dara's been living as a guy for half her life. I'm not even sure Dara thinks of **herself** as a real girl, especially with this whole 'freak' thing she's got going. I remember that whole thing with the BSRI test last month…_

_And hell, what do I know about girls – I tried to get Miho to go out with me by giving her a freaking **puzzle**. And even if I go on what I **do** know about girls – I'd still know even less about Dara. _

_She isn't an ordinary girl, after all. Maybe I should just treat her like a **person** and hope for the best._

"You," Tristan said lowly, pulling Dara close by way of his hand on her shoulder.

"What?" Dara asked, sniffing back tears.

Kneeling down in front of her, Tristan put his hands on her knees and looked up into her eyes. "**You **make it worth it for me, Dara," Tristan said solemnly.

"Me?" she asked in a small voice.

"Yeah, you," Tristan confirmed. "You're all I've ever wanted, Dara."

"You wanted a girl with more psychological problems than an entire mental institution?" she asked incredulously.

Though her tone was joking, Tristan could hear the very real self-loathing in her voice. "No," he breathed, one hand coming up to cup her face. "I want a girl with eyes that dance and shine when she's happy, with a smile that lights up my day. I want a girl who never backs down, and isn't afraid to be herself no matter how off-the-wall some might consider her to be. I want a girl that's tough, and giving, and kind, and oh-so-beautiful in nothing but a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that she takes my breath away."

He had no idea when he'd become a poet, but considering the look in her eyes at that precise moment…he was damn glad of it.

Her breath hitched in her throat and just stared at him, awed wonder on her face. "You…you mean it?"

"I'd never lie to you, Dara," Tristan promised. "I…I…" He let out a breath of frustration. Why was this so hard?

Dara was waiting patiently for him to continue, and looking into her green eyes, so full of the fire that drove her…he knew…just **knew**…that it was the right time.

And with that realization, he wasn't afraid to say it anymore. Taking a deep breath, he reached out and clasped her hand in his. The words flowed out of him like water under a bridge. Looking directly into those jade green orbs, Tristan said softly, heart in his mouth, "Suki da yo, Dara."

* * *

Dara froze. The words had hit her with all the force of a ton of dice.

_He…what? _she thought, stunned. _He can't mean… He **loves** me?_

_Me?_

"Tristan…" she said, at a loss. "I…"

"I know this seems sudden," he started, but Dara shook her head.

"No, it's really not," she assured him. _I remember how I felt that night a month ago. I thought I could fall in love with him. What made me think he wouldn't have felt it, too?_

_Experience? _she thought, her mood taking a downward turn from the elation those four simple words had filled her with._ Except…no one but him has ever made me feel like this. Like…maybe if he can love me…there's still hope._

_Hope for me to feel the same way._

_And I do, I have for a while now, I just… I'm afraid, _she realized. _I have to tell him how I feel. I can't let my fears hold me back,_ Dara decided. "Tristan, I… I love you, too," she said, voice ragged and almost inaudible. _I do, so much. But…is that enough?_

Tristan's smile lit up the whole room with his obvious happiness. Only… "I'm sensing a 'but' here," he said dryly.

Dara gave a crooked grin in reply. "You and I both know that nothing lasts forever," she said sadly. "I can't promise you anything; the future is so uncertain," she said. She sighed and looked down at their clasped hands. "**My **future is so uncertain." _Could I live the rest of my life with this masquerade? It's not like I could tell the world I've been cross-dressing for half my life. And, if for no other reason, Duke Devlin needs to exist to be the creator of Dungeon Dice Monsters._

_If I'm ever able to live as Dara, it would have to be in **addition** to being Duke. And Tristan…no matter what he feels for me now… One day it might be too much to put up with the lies, the double life…_

"**Everything** is uncertain, Dara," Tristan pointed out. "And I'm not asking for you to promise anything except to try."

"Try?" Dara asked uncertainly. _I could do that… Right? And…and so could he._

"Yeah," Tristan confirmed, voice soft.

_I have to…if only because I **know** I'll regret it if I don't…but if I do, there's a chance for us…albeit a small, almost infinitesimal one._ Taking a shuddering breath, Dara gave him a blinding smile. "I can do that," she said firmly.

Tristan's grin almost outshone hers. "I'm glad," he said, his thumb rubbing soothingly across her knuckles. "Real glad," he breathed and drew her towards him for a kiss.

Their lips met, everything but the two of them fading away. Dara's doubts, her fears, her worries about the future… Her heart, for once, was not closed off, keeping Tristan even the slightest bit at bay. It was open wide, accepting everything he had to give her…

And what he had to give her was his love.


	10. Oh, My! What A Starry Eyed Surprise

**Oh, My… What A Starry-Eyed Surprise**

* * *

**Japanese**

* * *

Ano – Um…  
Baka – Idiot/Stupid  
Kami-sama – God

* * *

_Once again, I find myself with my friends,  
__dancing the night away.  
__It's like the party never ends.  
__I walk into a club and I've found paradise.  
__I'm seeing stars; I can't believe my eyes._

_The walls are closing in but that's okay.  
__Because I've been waiting all week to feel this way,  
__and it feels so good, so good…  
__I'm on top of the world; the coolest kid in the neighborhood.  
__So let me be your star for one night…  
__  
Oh, my starry-eyed surprise, sundown to sunrise,  
__Dance all night, we're gonna dance all night, dance all night to this DJ.  
__Ah, sugar, dance all night to this DJ, dance all night to this DJ.  
__Lover, dance all night to this DJ._

_Wild cards, laser beams, flashing lights,  
__you've got to feel the rush, feel the spice of life.  
__Love life; take a roll of the dice.  
__Snake eyes!_

_Surprise._

* * *

**Paul Oakenfold – Starry-Eyed Surprise**

* * *

"You ready?" Tristan asked as the door to Dara's house opened.

"All set," she replied, buttoning the last button on her trench coat and grabbing her purse. They were heading out to the Phoenix that night – the seventh time since they'd gotten together – and like always, she didn't want anyone to see her in her girl getup.

Especially since tonight was their 'anniversary' of sorts. Six months ago they'd met at the Phoenix. Seemed appropriate they went there.

She didn't want **anything** to go wrong.

One could always hope that Murphy's Law would skip them just this once, ne?

Yeah, right…

"Cool," Tristan said.

She flashed him a blinding grin and quickly locked the door, following him to his motorcycle after she was sure everything was secure.

As they sped away towards Tokyo, neither Tristan nor Dara noticed the group tailing them.

The group consisting of two hikaris wearing yami-bearing Millennium Items, one blond mutt, and one dance student.

* * *

Entering the club, Tristan took a moment to adjust to the press of the crowd before he turned to Dara. "They're really full up tonight," he noted. "Why don't you go wait at the bar while I get us some drinks?"

"All right," Dara agreed, giving him a peck on the lips before they separated. Tristan snagged a waitress as she headed into the back, giving her their drink orders, then went to wait at the end of the bar next to the kitchen. Dara headed for the other end of the bar, which was slightly less crowded.

Unfortunately, that didn't mean it had a better class of people…

"Haven't I seen you someplace before?" a tall, blond man asked Dara as she walked up to the bar.

"Yes, that's why I don't go there anymore," she returned blithely, leaning nonchalantly back against the corner of the bar.

Frowning slightly, the blond man was still not to be deterred. "You know, you have a quick head on your shoulders."

Green eyes flashed. "And you've got something ugly on yours, blondie," Dara said icily.

'Blondie' started incredulously at her for a moment, before huffing and stalking away.

Dara breathed a silent sigh of relief. It always amazed her how much more attention she drew as a woman than as a man. It might have had something to do with her policy of not wearing even slightly revealing clothing when she was dressed a guy, but still…

Her thoughts were interrupted by a presence behind her. About to turn around, she was arrested by the feeling of an arm curling around her waist. She tensed slightly, but then relaxed as she recognized the spicy musk of Tristan's aftershave.

"You okay?" the brunet asked, the timbre of his voice rumbling pleasantly in her ear.

"I'm good," she replied, turning into Tristan's embrace. "I'm just trying to future out why so many men can't seem to take a hint."

Tristan shrugged and took a sip of his beer. "Joey isn't the only idiot in the world." He hopped up on a stool, waiting until Dara had done the same before he handed her a glass of iced tea.

Dara smiled. "Unfortunately."

Tristan laughed.

* * *

Speaking of idiots…

"Joey, I really don't think this is a good a idea," Yugi reiterated for the fourth time that evening as the group cautiously entered the Phoenix.

"Why not?" Joey asked. "All I wanna know is where dose two disappear ta on Fridays if dey're not dating."

"Maybe they just like going clubbing together," Téa offered.

Joey shook his head. "Dis is like da fifth time in da past two months neither of 'em have been home on da weekends. Dey **gotta** be dating."

"Then shouldn't we wait until they're ready to tell us themselves instead of stalking them?" Ryou asked practically, panting a bit, as he was out of breath. For some reason he kept getting jostled by the crowd inside the club more than the others were, and he was starting to feel slightly claustrophobic.

Joey sighed and rounded on the other three. "If they're dating, dey should have told us by now. But dey haven't. Maybe dat little scene in da park a few months ago scared 'em off it, and dat's my fault," he admitted, scrubbing the back of his neck ruefully. "So dat means it's up ta me ta fix it," he added decisively before making a beeline for the bar.

Trailing along in his wake, the other three – slightly more sane – members of the foursome sighed.

"I still don't think is a good idea," Yugi repeated, but his worries were lost in the sound of a small scuffle taking place only yards away. A burly biker was harassing a young girl with long black hair – and the girl was having none of it.

* * *

"You again?" the raven-haired beauty asked, incredulity dripping from each syllable. She sighed. "I guess it's true what they say – idiots are like boomerangs. You throw them away, but they just come back again," she said, picking his arm – which had been lying rather possessively on her shoulder – up, with a look of disgust on her face as if it was diseased, and throwing it away.

"You came back," the biker slurred. "I never got ta buy ya's that drink last time…"

"Because I didn't **want** you to," she interrupted, but he just steam-rollered over her objections, his bulk and the crowd preventing her from making her escape.

"You wanna let me buy ya's that drink now, sweet cheeks?" he finished, leering in what he probably thought was a provocative way – but was really only creepy and disgusting.

The girl's eyebrow twitched. "You do remember what happened last time you 'insisted' on buying me a drink, don't you?" she asked icily.

"Ah…no." Scratching his head, the biker said. "Actually, I don't. Why don't ya tell me, sugar?" He leered again, somehow managing to make himself look even more repulsive.

She grinned ferally. "You ended up unconscious. I guess you must have gotten a concussion."

Blinking, the biker shrugged. "So does that mean ya won't let me buy ya's a drink?"

The girl sighed, her eyes rolling up to implore the ceiling tiles in a 'Why me?' gesture. Her gaze slanting back towards the biker, she said, voice hard, "No. Not now, not ever. Now leave, jackass."

"Or what?" the biker demanded belligerently.

"Or I'll get medieval on your ass," she snarled.

"Yeah, right," he chuckled, one hand coming up to clasp her shoulder.

"Remove your hand, or I will **remove** it for you," she hissed.

He gave her a smile, as if to say, 'I'd like to see you try.'

Bad move, buddy.

Eyes flashing, she reached up with the arm opposite to the shoulder his arm was crushing, and, in a move almost too quick for the eyes to see, grabbed his middle finger and yanked it all the way back.

Howling, the biker let go of her shoulder, clutching his now broken finger. He glared at her, and suddenly found someplace better to be – like maybe a monastery, where he would swear off women for the rest of his life.

"Baka," she said derisively and whirled around to leave.

* * *

"What a woman!" Joey marveled. "Now dat is my kinda…" he started to say, but was arrested when the girl turned towards them.

"…girl?" Joey choked out, staring at the vision of loveliness in a red dress and silver jacket, night-dark hair falling in delicate wisps around her face…

…and peeking out from behind the mussed locks, Duke Devlin's catlike green eyes.


	11. Love Just Is

**Love Just Is**

* * *

**Japanese**

* * *

Ano – Um…  
Kami-sama – God  
Koi – Lover, Boy/Girlfriend  
-tachi – Suffix meaning 'and the others'

* * *

_Nothing's ever what it seems  
in your life or in your dreams.  
It don't make sense; what can you do?  
So I won't try makin' sense of you. _

Love just is…whatever it may be.  
Love just is…you and me.  
Nothing less and nothing more.  
I don't know what I love you for…  
_Love just is… _

Some things never get defined  
in your heart or in your mind.  
It don't make sense; what can you do?  
So I won't try makin' sense of you…

Don't ever ask me for reasons  
I can't get to you.  
Don't ever ask me for reasons…  
Why I live for you…I just do.

* * *

**Hillary Duff – Love Just Is**

* * *

Dara blinked. _Kami-sama, no… Tell me Yugi-tachi aren't standing right in front of me._

But they were.

"What **are** you doing here?" Dara asked, somewhere between scared stiff and seething. Thanking every deity – both Japanese and Egyptian – she'd ever heard of that she hadn't taken her jacket off along with her concealing trench coat, Dara quickly – and surreptitiously – zipped it up.

She still had a chance to keep them from finding out everything. The question was, should she take it?

But before Joey – or any of the others – could answer, another voice was heard.

"Oi, Dev, you all right?" Tristan asked, coming up behind Dara and placing one hand on her shoulder. She'd gone to get refills on their drinks, and had taken longer than expected, so he'd come to find her. Now she had a look halfway between pissed off and scared stiff on her face.

He blinked as he noticed Yugi, Joey, Téa and Ryou standing not five feet away. Realizing that their friends must have been the cause of her facial expression, he gulped as it hit him just exactly what their being in the Phoenix meant.

They knew about Dara. At least, part of it, anyway.

"Oh, shit…" Tristan moaned.

"You said it, Tristan," Dara agreed wryly.

* * *

Five minutes later, after a hurried consultation, the six friends were outside, in an empty lot next to the Phoenix. It had previously been a parking lot, but someone had turned it into a facsimile of a park by adding flowers and benches. There was even a tree on the far side, which must had been growing there even before it was a parking lot because it's root system had broken the surface in numerous places.

Surrounding the tree were several of the aforementioned benches, and it was there that the revelatory conversation was taking place.

"What are you guys doing here?" Dara asked, repeating her question from earlier in the evening. She combed one hand through her hair in a nervous action. Her chance to come clean about everything had just been handed to her on a silver platter, but she wasn't sure she wanted to take it. She'd been living a lie for so long…

Rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, Yugi said sheepishly, "Joey wanted to follow you tonight; he thought you were going to a gay club, and we could catch you and get you to admit you were together."

"Ano…why would you go along with that?" Tristan asked, trying hard to hide his panic.

"Because Joey was going with or without us and we thought that with us along we could keep him from getting into too much trouble," Ryou answered. He winced as he glanced at 'Duke', and smiled half-heartedly. "That didn't turn out as well as we hoped, ne?"

"Plus, there aren't any good gay clubs in Domino, and Yami really likes to dance," Yugi admitted, shame-faced. "I figured if you **were** going to a gay club, then maybe Yami and I could come back sometime." He scuffed his toe across the grass.

"Yes, but it isn't a gay club," Téa pointed out. "There were a lot of girls in there." She glanced involuntarily at 'Duke'.

"Are ya sure?" Joey asked. "Maybe all da chicks in dere are really guys." He grinned cannily at the dice duelist.

_Should I? I'll never get a more perfect chance. _Dara sighed, her shoulders slumping as they relaxed from their tensed posture. _It's now or never… I'm tired of hiding anyway._ Lips pursed, Dara said, "While this club is cross-dresser friendly, at the moment, I am **not** cross-dressing."

Shooting his koi a disbelieving look, Tristan hissed, "Dev…" _Is she sure?_

"I'm tired of hiding, Tristan," Dara said softly, so the others wouldn't hear. She gave him a beseeching look. "I'm tired of all the lies." _And I need to do this._

_It's her decision. I just hope she doesn't regret it._ Nodding slowly, Tristan said, tone the same volume, "If you're sure…"

"Very," Dara replied.

"What do ya mean, Devlin?" Joey asked, confusion etched clearly on his face.

Sighing, Dara decided to go for the shock value. A grin quirked her lips as she thought about the expressions of stunned amazement that were sure to soon grace the others' faces. Unzipping her hastily-donned jacket, she shrugged it off, revealing the dress she was wearing underneath. The dress was – like the first one Tristan had seen her in at the club – red. Unlike the other dress, however, this one was strapless – and obviously not held up by padding. The shimmery material clung to her every curve and emphasized the fact that they – and she – were decidedly **not** masculine. "Do these look **fake** to you, Wheeler?" Dara demanded bluntly.

Joey just stared at her in astonishment. He – and the other three friends – were silent for a moment, trying to make this new piece of information fit with what they already knew – or **thought** that they knew – about 'Duke'. Finally, Joey snapped out of his daze enough to squeak out, "You're a **girl**!" his voice going so high on the last word that he sounded almost feminine himself.

Dara covered her wince at the blond's histrionics with a scowl. "Bingo. Give the dog a bone," she grumbled, clipping his ear with her scarlet-manicured hand, before setting it on her hip. "And could you **be** any louder, Wheeler? I don't think they heard you on the mainland."

"This is a surprise," Yugi said vaguely, staring at Dara's uncovered chest. He blushed as he realized where he was staring and promptly switched the focal point of his gaze to her face.

"Indeed," Yami intoned, having finally decided to come out of the Puzzle and take part in the proceedings.

Bakura – who had appeared moments before, precipitating Yami's own appearance – snorted. "Explains why **she** and Taylor never admitted they were gay."

Dara inclined her head in a nod. "Exactly. So…what do you guys think?" she asked nervously. _Kami-sama, tell me they're not all going to freak out like Joey…_

Joey shook his head. "You're even weirder dan I thought, Devlin."

Dara looked at him, mouth open. _Forget freaking out – they can't all be that **stupid**, _she thought, a mental snarl sounding in her head.

Tristan, sensing the impending explosion, backed away slowly. The rest of the group followed; Joey had finally managed to do what they had **thought** was impossible.

Make a bigger ass of himself than he had that afternoon when he'd implied being gay was an insult.

"Oh, that is **it**!" Dara screamed. Launching herself at the blond, she tugged her headband free of her hair, and with a few quick, almost light-speed movements, had him tied to the nearby tree, his hands over his head, hanging from a branch with his feet dangling inches off the ground. She backed off a few feet, smiling at her handiwork.

Bakura burst out laughing, followed close by Tristan's snickers and Téa's stifled giggles. Yugi, Yami and Ryou just shook their heads, trying to hide their smiles.

"Hey! Lemme down!" Joey yelled, trying to wiggle free of his confinement.

"Not until you learn some tact, Wheeler," Dara snarled. "I am so **tired** of putting up with your crude remarks. There is no call for some of the stuff you've said to me, and I…have had…**enough**," she said, emphasizing the last few words as she strode towards him until they were nose to nose – or would have been, if Joey had been hanging about a foot lower.

Joey blustered for a few minutes, but finally hung his head sullenly. "Yeah, okay…maybe I was kinda a jerk ta ya. But did ya have ta tie meh up?" he whined.

"Well, you know what they say: well-behaved women rarely make history," Dara quipped, twirling one lock of raven hair around her forefinger.

Téa had to hide a smirk at that. It was nice not being the only girl in the group anymore. Mai was always off in professional dueling tournaments and Serenity lived in another city.

Tristan chuckled. "Dara…" he chided, making the group collectively blink as they realized that no, a **girl** wouldn't be named **Duke**.

"Whaaaat?" said dice duelist asked mock innocently.

Shaking his head, Tristan scolded, "That wasn't very nice, you know."

"Your point?" Dara smiled a sugar-sweet smile.

Rolling his eyes, the brunet implored the sky in a, 'Why me?' gesture. Dara laughed.

"So…Dara?" Ryou ventured.

Dara nodded slowly. "That's my real name," she admitted softly. _And aside from Tristan, no one's said it in years,_ she thought, blinking back a melancholy mood. Why should she be sad? After all, Yugi and the others were taking this revelation even better than she'd expected.

But if something appeared too good to be true, then it usually was. Then again, nothing about her life was what one would expect…

"It's a nice name," Yugi said sincerely. "But, ano…why?" He spread his hands in a gesture of confusion.

Dara averted her eyes. "Why what?" she asked, feigning ignorance.

Bakura gave her a pointed look. "Cut out the smart-assitude and answer the question, dice girl. Why have you been cross-dressing as a guy?"

The brave front she'd put up faltered as she glared at the white-haired yami. _He has a point, though, _she admitted to herself. _Purposely being difficult might make me feel better about having to reveal my secret, but in the long run, it's definitely not going to make things easier for me._ Dara shrugged. "It was my father's idea. Part of his revenge scheme," she said, hoping that no further explanations would be required.

And, thankfully for her continued sanity – not that there was much left, she occasionally thought – while the others obviously had questions, they managed to restrain themselves from asking all but a few of them. She really didn't want to go into this with them. Tristan had been one thing – she'd been attracted to him for some time, after all – and since he'd been the first person to ever find out, she'd been caught unawares.

"How long?" Téa asked softly, noticing the tense set to the other girl's expression.

"Eight years," Dara answered flatly. Her words were greeted by gasps of appalled shock. She found herself almost surprised at the amount of astonishment the others had displayed at her answer. She'd been living a lie for so long, she'd almost forgotten how unusual her life was.

Almost.

She couldn't really forget – but then, Tristan was the biggest reason she could forget, and she wouldn't give him up for anything.

Even being able to pretend her life was normal.

"You've been pretending to be a guy for half your **life**?" Yugi asked incredulously.

Dara shifted uncomfortably at the looks she was getting. It had never occurred to her that they'd all be so…discombobulated by finding that one fact out.

Nodding, Dara made a sound, the vocal equivalent of a shrug. She shivered slightly; having taken her jacket off, she was now rather cold, since it was windy outside. She edged closer to Tristan, cuddling close to him for warmth, relaxing slightly as his arm curled around her. Dara's movement transferred the others' attention to her koi.

"Tristan?" Ryou broached the subject cautiously.

The brunet blinked. It was the first time he'd been personally addressed all evening. "Yeah?" he asked.

"How long have you known?" the white-haired hikari asked. "About…Dara?" he clarified, almost stumbling over the name since he wasn't used to it.

The others appeared quite interested in the answer.

"Yeah, how long have ya known, Tris?" Joey seconded. "Ya don't seem all dat surprised dat Devlin's a girl."

Tristan looked away, scratching a nonexistent itch on his nose to give himself time to think. It would definitely not go over well that he and Dara had kept their relationship a secret for so long.

_Or maybe I'm just making a mountain out of a molehill,_ he thought ruefully. _After all, they're gonna be more caught up in the fact that Dara's a girl, than in the fact we've been dating for so long._ "I've known for six months," Tristan said gruffly.

Joey gaped. "And ya didn't **tell** us!"

"It wasn't my place, Joey," Tristan said sharply.

"And considering the way **you**, specifically, reacted, can you blame me for wanting to keep my secret a **secret**?" Dara added.

"Eh-heh…" Joey chuckled nervously, glancing up at where his arms were tied to the tree branch. "Ah…no, I guess I can't."

The others nodded their agreement.

Dara slumped back against Tristan; exhaustion from being wound so tight with worry stealing over her as she realized things weren't going as bad as she'd feared.

Yami gave the two of them a knowing look. "I can understand why you would have been hesitant to tell us you were female, Dara," he said. "But why didn't you tell us you and Tristan were together?" He gave a pointed look at their close positions.

Dara flushed slightly, but forced herself not to move away from her boyfriend.

"Neither of us wanted to lie," Tristan answered for her. "I mean, you all thought the both of us were gay…"

"…when neither of us were," Dara finished for him. She rolled her eyes. "Plus, there may be nothing wrong with being gay, but the business world doesn't see it like that."

Joey paused in his effort to free himself from his bondage to the tree. "So ya were worried about yer reputation?" he asked, grunting slightly as he swung back and forth with the inertia of his former struggles.

"Not really," Dara answered, shaking her head. "I was more worried about scrutiny. The closer anybody looked at my life, the easier it would be for them to figure out my secret."

"Then why did you spend so much time hanging out with us?" Téa asked.

Dara gave a lopsided smile. "I moved around so much when I was younger that I never had time to make friends. When – even after that whole mess with my father – Yugi still wanted to be my friend…" She shrugged. "I wasn't about to give up my only chance to have even a semblance of a normal life."

Tristan snorted softly. "And here I thought you hung around with us because of me and my charms," he said, acting slightly put out.

Dara rolled her eyes at him. "Yeah, right. As if." She sniffed haughtily. "I'm only with you because Wheeler is the only other single guy I know – and I'd rather be a lesbian and date Téa than be with him." She glanced at the other girl and flashed her a not-entirely innocent smile. "No offense."

Téa waved her off. "None taken." She herself felt the same way.

Tristan shook his head sadly at his girlfriend. "Every time I try to make sense of you, Dara, you just get harder and harder to understand," he mock-complained.

Dara shrugged and laughed. "Every relationship needs a little mystery, Tris."

"You already had this whole secret of yours; I don't think you need any more," Ryou pointed out.

"But Tristan is part of the secret, therefore I needed something different," Dara countered, before turning back to her boyfriend. She arched an eyebrow. "In any event, I'm not the only one who's not making sense."

Tristan raised one brunet eyebrow, his lips twisting with suppressed mirth. "Oh?"

"Yes – I have yet to figure out how you get your hair to stay spiked up like that without putting hair spray on it or something." She flicked the spike of brown hair with her finger, meeting no resistance, as the spike was as soft as regular hair.

Tristan growled playfully and caught her hand, keeping it from messing with his hair further. He kissed the inside of her wrist gently and then let go as he said, "I don't do anything to it – it's natural. Like Yugi and Yami's hair."

Dara blinked innocently. "You mean you didn't **know**?" she asked, astonished.

_Déjà vu,_ Tristan thought, remembering how this scene had played out with Joey a few months previously. Though this time he got the feeling most of them really **didn't** know.

"Know what?" Joey asked.

"Yugi and Yami's hair isn't natural," Dara said, in the tone of someone who was about to reveal a big secret.

Not that Yugi and Yami's hair not being in a state of naturally defying gravity was a bigger secret than Dara's real gender, but…

"We do not dye our hair," Yugi protested, though there was an anxious look on his face.

"I never said you did," Dara replied blandly. "I said it wasn't natural. I mean the way it spikes up like that. I saw you two in the drugstore a few weeks ago, buying extra hold hair gel."

Yugi blushed slightly but Yami just shrugged it off. "It looks even wilder without it – I should know, I tried everything back in Egypt, but I still looked like a porcupine that had stuck its tail in a light socket."

Bakura barked a laugh. Joey snickered at the mental image. Ryou hid his own laugh in a cough, and even Tristan and Téa had to hold back chuckles.

Yugi, having finally managed to shove off his embarrassment, said, "I didn't see you in the store; where were you?"

"Hiding," Dara said succinctly.

"Hiding?" Ryou asked.

Dara shrugged, discomforted. "I didn't want you to see me."

"What were you buying?" Téa asked, having a sneaking suspicion she knew.

"Let me put it this way – one of the only times I ever wished I was **really** a guy was so I never had to buy them again," Dara said sourly.

Realization lighting her eyes, Téa nodded in commiseration. "Don't I know it."

"And dis is getting into da realm of overshare," Joey broke in.

Dara sighed. "Wheeler, if I threw a stick, would you go away?"

"Not tied to that tree he wouldn't," Bakura joked.

"Though if you threw a donut he might tear the tree out of the ground in his pursuance of it," Yami added.

Joey growled, but refrained from saying anything. His bottomless pit of a stomach was legendary, and he knew it.

Giving the blond a measuring look, Dara said, "If I untie you, will you promise to keep quiet about this?"

Joey brightened at the mention of his impending freedoms. "What reason would I have ta tell anybody?" he asked practically.

Dara sighed and strode over to stand next to him, tugging the knots she'd tied in her headband apart.

Tristan's smile soured. "You're the one who's always looking for blackmail material on people, Joe."

"Eh-heh." Joey blushed. "It's only a hobby," he defended himself. "'Cept for Kaiba, anyway," he added as an afterthought.

"Then I think you need a new hobby," Dara grumbled, quickly untying the blond. Joey dropped unceremoniously to the ground, letting out an, "Ouch!" as he landed butt-first on the sparse grass poking up through the asphalt.

"Thanks," Joey said sarcastically, as he rubbed the red marks around his wrists.

"Anytime," Dara replied sweetly. Dropping down to sit by Tristan, she gave the blond a smug smile.

Yugi cleared his throat to help stifle his giggles at his friend's predicament. "Well…now that Joey isn't collared to that tree anymore…" He waved a hand towards the street.

"…we should be going," Ryou finished.

"Before Murphy decides to clobber us over the head," Téa added.

"Again, you mean," Dara corrected. "Seeing as how I wasn't planning on your following us here." Her smile and tone of voice took the sting out of her words; she was upset that they'd found out, but wasn't going to hold Joey's nosiness – or bad timing – against them.

Checking his watch, Tristan nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, it's almost midnight. We should be going, too."

"History test on Monday," Dara explained at the others' questioning looks.

"Gah!" Yugi slapped his forehead, a pained expression on his face even before his hand's impact. "I completely forgot about that!"

Yami smirked slightly. "I didn't, aibou. Why do you think I tried to talk you into staying home tonight to study?"

Glowering at his other, Yugi said, "You could have reminded me, Yami."

"I am not your personal reminding service, hikari," Yami sniffed haughtily, before disappearing back into the Puzzle.

Bakura chuckled and followed the former Pharaoh's suit, going back inside the Ring.

Ryou rolled his eyes at their behavior. "Shall we?" he asked, sweeping a grandiose bow to Téa.

She giggled at the white-haired hikari's antics. "Let's," she agreed, heading out of the grassy enclosure. "Before Murphy catches up with us."

"See you at school on Monday, Tristan, Dara," Yugi said in farewell as he too turned to leave.

"Just make sure you call me Duke, okay?" Dara warned him.

"We will!" Téa called, she and Ryou having already reached the far side of the miniature park.

"And we won't tell anyone," Yugi added.

Dara smiled and, flicked a glance Joey's way. The blond was now the only one of the four who hadn't left. Noticing that Joey was scuffing his feet and sending Tristan looks, she nudged her boyfriend. "I think he wants to talk to you," she said in a low voice.

Tristan nodded. "Yeah. Wait here for me?" he asked.

"Of course."

Joey looked up as his best friend came near. Noting that the others had walked out of earshot, he felt free to broach this sensitive subject. "Tristan…" he said.

Tristan quirked a brow. "Yeah, Joe? What did you want to talk about?"

After deliberating over his phrasing for several moments, Joey finally just decided to be blunt. "Why her?" he asked. "I mean, not dat she's not hot, or nice, but… Even an idiot like me can tell she's got more emotional baggage dan an airport. Why would ya wanna weigh yerself down with dat when ya don't haveta?"

_As if Mai Valentine's life is all fun and games,_ Tristan thought wryly. _She's got her own demons in her past – if you can't handle them, it's no wonder she keeps brushing you off._ Fighting a smile at the so-typical Joey expression, Tristan forewent voicing any of the thoughts on his mind and said simply, "I love her."

Joey blinked at the honest statement. _Love? In six months?_ Still, this was Tristan, his best friend. Tristan wouldn't lie to him. Shaking his head, he said, "Yeah, but **why**?"

Shrugging, Tristan slanted a glance Dara's way. She gave him a smile, one he returned without even thinking about it. Wrenching himself back to the conversation when Joey pointedly cleared his throat, he flushed, saying, "Love just is, Joey. There's no rhyme or reason why."

Joey just looked at him, an enigmatic expression on his face. _He is so far gone it's not even funny. And I, player than I am, am so envious._ Finally he said, "Well, I hope ya two are happy togethah." Slapping the brunet on the back, he jogged off to catch up with the others.

_That was odd,_ Tristan thought. _But I guess we needed to clear the air. Secrets cause problems no matter what they are._

He grinned widely._ And while I don't **need** his blessing, it's nice that he gave it anyway. _

Crunching his way across the gravel back towards his koi, Tristan met up with Dara underneath the tree. "What did Joey want?" she asked him.

"He wanted to know if you had a sister," Tristan joked.

Dara rolled her eyes. "Oh, really now? And what did you tell him?"

"I told him that you're one of a kind – and I don't share," Tristan replied, grinning widely. He chuckled, pulling her into his arms.

Dara melted into his arms, finally able to relax completely now that they were alone again. It had been an…**interesting **anniversary. _I wonder what'll happen on our one-year anniversary?_ "Neither do I, tough guy," she replied in a husky voice.

Leaning in and giving Dara a quick kiss, Tristan looked down into her eyes. "I think they took it pretty well."

"Yeah…better than I thought they would," Dara marveled. _Maybe things will all work out. No one else needs to know – right now, anyway. And considering that they've all managed to keep quiet about the Millennium Items and Shadow Magic…_

"They like you, Dev. Why would they shun you because of this?" Tristan asked practically.

"You know me," Dara said, one shoulder lifting in a half-shrug. "I've never been an optimist."

"But you're not a pessimist," Tristan said. "No matter what you might think. More of a realist."

She tilted her head to the side. "Think it's realistic to hope we'll still be together six months from now?" she asked, holding her breath. If she'd read him wrong…

Tristan's smile was almost blinding in its intensity. "I think six months is too little to ask for. How about sixty years?"

Dara grinned widely. "Sounds good," she murmured, lifting her face up for a kiss. Tristan obliged her, sealing their lips together, a strangled moan escaping him before they were entwined too tightly with each to allow sound to escape.

Finally parting for breath, they stood there, foreheads resting against each other, just enjoying the closeness. Tristan's hand toyed with her hair as Dara grinned up at him shyly. Now that there were no more secrets to hide, they could get on with living their lives. And since they were together, they could live for each other.

Always.

* * *

THE END


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